


Ariadne's Curse

by GLEEAnna



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-02-22 12:15:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 50,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2507408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GLEEAnna/pseuds/GLEEAnna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Double mpreg fantasy AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Curse

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Klaine Prompt Big Bang 2014 on tumblr. See klainepbang.tumblr.com for the challenge.

McKinley High School teachers Holly Holiday and Will Schuester herded their students through the Allen County Museum of Archaeology and History, which was Ohio-renowned for its research and historical collections. The museum had invited the junior and senior history classes to view the new crown jewel of its collection, the “Greek Women in Myth Exhibition”. Admission was free, and the museum was close enough to McKinley that buses were unnecessary. As a result, the school administration had approved the outing, even though Greek mythology had nothing to do with McKinley’s history curriculum. 

 

Senior Kurt Hummel was glad to be out of the slushy-filled halls of McKinley High School, regardless of where the trip was held. But this trip had an extra benefit, because it meant extra time with his boyfriend, Blaine, who was close by his side as they filed through the galleries. They’d had a rough couple of weeks. Blaine had suffered a serious corneal injury requiring heavy pain medication, and keeping him at home until he’d recently recovered from eye surgery. And Kurt had been deeply shaken again recently, when Dave Karofsky, a closeted gay teen who had bullied Kurt mercilessly through the beginning of junior year, had been outed before he was ready … and attempted suicide. The school was abuzz with the gossip, many people judging Dave a coward, but Kurt just felt guilty over the whole incident. He was glad to have a mental break from the talk and from school, and to have a chance to see some amazing works of art up close rather than in his dingy, ten-year-old textbooks.

Blaine’s mother, Anna Anderson, PhD, had personally curated the new exhibit, and was their docent for the field trip. Professor Anderson’s shock of thick, straight black hair was swept back from her face in a messy bun with a chewed-up pencil stuck through it. She wore nondescript vegan shoes; her suit was two years out of style, and would not be retro for at least another ten. But her pretty, youthful face, so much like his boyfriend’s, shone when raving about her life’s work, oblivious to her young audience’s complete disinterest. She stopped before a wide, waist-high marble pedestal holding a life-sized silver statue of a woman, side-by-side with an identical casting in bronze. The unusual twin figures each depicted a heavily pregnant, kneeling goddess, her arms outstretched in supplication.

“Here we have the centerpiece of our exhibition,” Professor Anderson announced with obvious pride. “The images of Ariadne, believed to be from approximately 800 B.C., which were recovered from an archaeological excavation on Cyprus.” She paused, as if waiting for applause. When none was forthcoming, she pressed on.

“The significance of this find is exceptional,” Professor Anderson prattled cheerfully. “The writings of Plutarch tell us of an ancient cult of Aphrodite and Ariadne. Ariadne, in labor, was shipwrecked on the island. She died in childbirth, and her husband Theseus, in his grief, created a shrine to her memory. He was said to have commissioned these images,” she explained, gesturing to the two figures, “and decreed that sacrifices be made in her memory every year. It was said that exactly nine months after Ariadne’s first festival, two young men returned to the shrine in vicarious labor, through the power of the goddess. They were known as true lovers, and they died in their travail, clasped in each other’s arms.”

Titters ran through the group, and Kurt’s boyfriend Blaine bit his lip. Kurt squeezed his hand and smiled supportively. “Your mom is awesome,” Kurt assured him, whispering in his ear. “This is really interesting.”

Blaine smiled, looking around furtively and then stealing a kiss in the shadowy room behind the backs of the teachers and most of their friends. Kurt wished that they could be more open with their affection, like all the other McKinley couples were, but even in Glee Club they usually refrained from too much overt display. “You’re sweet to say that,” Blaine whispered, his lips tickling Kurt’s ear pleasantly. “But I know this is like watching paint dry.” 

Kurt pulled Blaine a little farther away from the group and snaked his arms around him from behind, resting his chin on Blaine’s shoulder. Closing his eyes a moment, he reflected that it wasn’t all that boring of a field trip.

After rambling on for another ten minutes, Blaine’s mother finally wound up her presentation, and the group clapped faintly. Mr. Schuester called, “Okay … that’s it for the tour, folks. You’re free to walk around the museum for another half hour independently. Then we’ll meet in the gift shop and head back to school.” The group started milling about, chattering and gossiping more than looking at the ancient artifacts which were Anna’s passion.

“Half an hour. Plenty of time to find someplace to make out,” Kurt murmured. “Maybe even a little more… you must know where the supply closets are in this place. You’ve probably spent enough afternoons here with your mom.”

“That’s exactly why we’re not doing anything here,” Blaine said, leaning away from Kurt with a giggle and dragging him over to the center of the room. “Mom’s workplace? Total mood kill.”

“You sure?” Kurt recklessly palmed Blaine’s plump backside and squeezed it. “It’s been a whole two days since we’ve had any time alone.”

“Do you mind? Some of us are interested in seeing the exhibition. Not in exhibitionism,” head cheerleader Quinn Fabray sniped from behind them. 

Kurt jumped, then blushed irritably. “Mind your own business, Quinn.” He and Quinn faced off in front of the twin Ariadne statues. “We weren’t doing anything you and your multiple jock boyfriends haven’t done all over school. Interesting that it bothers you so much when two guys do the same.”

“Will you two knock it off please? You’ve been bickering for days and it’s ridiculous,” Blaine said, exasperated. “Look, Quinn - - Kurt was just upset about what happened to Karofsky when you had that argument that started all this - -”

Quinn held up an imperious hand. “Stop right there. That was no excuse for Kurt to say that having a baby at sixteen was no big deal.” Quinn’s cat-like eyes were glinting eerily at Kurt in the darkened, track-lit gallery. 

Kurt rested a hand on the nearby gleaming silver Ariadne statute, leaning against it as he regarded Quinn coolly. Blaine clutched at his other hand, trying to draw him away; but Kurt kept staring Quinn down. “You need to check your straight privilege, Fabray, and check it hard. You have no idea what David went through, and no business judging him or any other LGBT kid until you’ve walked a mile in our shoes.”

Quinn tossed her head. “Maybe. But maybe you should check your male privilege,” she drawled in her slow, husky voice. “You’ll never know what it’s like to lose control of your own body - - to watch it swell up to twice its size and be taken over by another person. Not to mention labor, and then - - giving up the baby and having nothing to show for it? You have the gall to dismiss that, as a man who never has to worry about that happening to you? How dare you?” 

Kurt shrugged, but he felt a little uncomfortable at Quinn’s vehemence. Maybe he could have worded his opinion a little better. But although Quinn was a friend and had a good heart at times, she could also be an insufferable prig at others, and a hypocrite in the bargain. He didn’t feel like backing down right now and stiffened his spine. “You could have avoided all of it if you’d just made Puck use a condom. You brought it on yourself.”

“I - - I brought it on myself?” Quinn spluttered. “How, exactly? By having unsafe sex at 15? Puck did too, you know. But I’mthe only one who paid the consequences. And I doubt you’ve been 100% careful every time you’ve done it with Reggie Mantle here.”

“Hey!” Blaine exclaimed. “Why are you taking shots at me? I’m just standing here!”

Kurt had about enough. HIs nerves were shot. David had nearly killed himself because the two of them had been spotted at Breadstix together. Blaine and Burt had insisted, repeatedly, that what David did wasn’t his fault. Logically, he knew they were right. He owed David nothing and it wasn’t his responsibility to help his former bully deal with exactly the same type of abuse he had handed out freely for years to other, weaker kids. 

But … emotionally, he wasn’t able to shake his guilt since David’s rash act. Of all people, Kurt should have known just how dark a place David was in and gotten help for him, especially after he was outed. It wasn’t fair for Quinn, the popular straight girl and queen of the school, to look down in judgment. “I’m just saying … your problem went away after nine months. You can put it behind you and go on to Yale like it never happened. David can’t escape his problems, not as long things are how they are in this country. Can’t you see the difference?” Kurt asked pointedly.

“That’s where you’re wrong. What I had to go through physically and mentally? Those memories will never be behind me. ” She scowled fiercely, reaching out a hand and gripping the edge of the bronze statue of Ariadne beside them, her manicured nails scraping along the surface. “I really, really wish you could know what that’s like —” Quinn’s words were cut off with a shriek, as a sudden flash of blue-white light seared and sizzled through the room. 

Kurt felt an excruciating jolt of pain in his hand. A force, a wave of heat or energy, surged through him, and a high-pitched, whirring buzz deafened him for an instant. Blaine jerked beside him, before pulling his hand from Kurt’s grip with a gasp.

The next moment, still breathless and tingling, Kurt looked down at his palms. They were bright red and blistered, as if from intense heat. He turned stunned eyes to Blaine, who was holding his own injured palm against his mouth, and then to Quinn.

She was shaking her hand in pain. “The - - the statue gave me a shock,” she gasped. “But — it’s been a clear day - - not a hint of thunder —”

“And we’re inside,” Kurt finished for her, confused. His hands were already feeling better, the burns fading rapidly. Impossibly so. He looked up. “How could we be struck by lightning in here?”

“What were you three yelling for?” Finn asked curiously. The others were all staring as well.

“The lightning, of course,” Kurt stammered. “We all got a shock.”

Finn frowned, and the other students looked mystified, first at each other and the at the three friends in the twin shadows of the goddess. Then he turned back, his face puzzled.

“What lightning?”


	2. Symptoms

At the clang of the bell announcing the end of fourth period, Kurt shoved his notebook into his bag and pulled out a bag of Filipino corn nuts that he had picked up at a Fil-Am market Blaine had turned him on to a few weeks ago, when picking up some things for Anna. Kurt wasn’t supposed to eat in the hallways, but he was ravenous and lunch was two periods away. Ripping open the bag, he began scarfing them down while hurrying to his next class, stopping short delightedly when he saw a very welcome sight. Blaine was at his locker, shuffling through some papers. He hadn’t thought he’d see him today; Blaine had been feeling pretty under the weather off and on for several days now, and had called him to say he wouldn’t be coming in. Kurt smiled and skipped up to Blaine’s side.

 

“Hey! You made it in! Feeling better?” he called out, sidling up and going in for a quick kiss on the cheek. Blaine turned his face away quickly, glancing nervously at the surrounding crowd, and Kurt stopped, embarrassed. Popping another handful of salty snacks into his mouth, he mumbled, “What? Can’t I have a little kiss? Nobody’s looking at us.”

 

“They’re always looking at us,” Blaine said irritably. His lips were pale, and there were hollows in his cheeks and shadows under his eyes. “What the hell are you eating?” he asked, eyeing the bag in Kurt’s hand.

 

“Your favorite. Hot Garlic Boy Bawang! You want some?” Kurt said, still munching, but tilting the bag toward Blaine. Blaine’s face went from unusually pale to mildly green.

 

“No, Kurt, I don’t want garlic flavored cornick at 10 in the morning. And there must be something wrong with them, they smell repulsive,” Blaine snapped. “Can you close that bag if you’re going to stand there? The smell is making me sick again.”

 

“Geeze, sorry,” Kurt sniped back, feeling unreasonably irritated. “I didn’t mean to offend your delicate sensibilities; I happen to be starving.” He licked his fingers and wadded up the bag, hurling it in a nearby trash can. 

 

"Fine, enjoy your disgusting nuts!” Blaine shouted, drawing curious stares from the last remaining students still scurrying past them to class. Scowling, he slammed the door to the locker and stalked off down the hallway. Puzzled, Kurt followed him, tugging at his sleeve.

 

“Where are you going? We have art elective fifth period, you’re going the wrong way.”

 

“I’m going home. My mother is waiting outside in the car. I just came in to get some stuff to work on,” Blaine said, walking fast and keeping his face averted. 

 

The hall was empty now, and Kurt was going to be late, but he was a little concerned. This bug of Blaine’s was taking a long time to work itself out. He pulled Blaine to a stop, looking into his face. “I’m sorry I was grouchy … I know you’re not feeling well. I hope you get better soon, honey.” He stroked Blaine’s back gently. When Blaine looked up, Kurt winced in pity; Blaine’s face was damp with sweat and his hands were trembling. 

 

“I’m sorry too. I haven’t been able to keep anything down for days, and - - I need to get out of here before I start hurling again.” Blaine looked exhausted, blinking back tears, and Kurt patted his arm.

 

“It’s okay. Just go home and feel better. Love you.”

 

Blaine squeezed his arm lightly and murmured, “Love you too. Bye.”

 

~ * ~ * ~

 

Two weeks later, the New Directions were crowded together at their table in the cafeteria, minus one. Moping, Kurt set his tray down beside Mercedes. Blaine was home sick again, making this the second week in a row he hadn’t put in an appearance. After the weeks Blaine had missed after Sebastian’s rock-salt slushy, it felt like Blaine might as well have stayed at Dalton for all Kurt got to see him. And Blaine was so ill, he wasn’t keeping up with his homework anymore. If this kept up, Kurt worried if Blaine would be able to pass eleventh grade. If he didn’t, that would mean summer school, which would ruin their last summer together before Kurt went off to NYADA, assuming he got in. He was pretty sure he would; Blaine and Rachel told him he’d aced the audition. He picked up his fork and started in on his heaped lunch tray.

 

"I see you’ve finally come over to the tots side," Mercedes observed, looking at Kurt’s plate, a steaming pile of potato tots and chicken fingers.

 

"With mayo, though?" Sam asked, his lip curling in distaste. "Dude, that’s gross. And super unhealthy. No offense, but you’re kind of packing on the weight a little.”

 

"I know, okay? I guess it’s nervous eating." Kurt dipped another potato tot in mayonnaise and popped it in his mouth. "I’m worried about Blaine. I stopped by his house last night to help him with his homework, but he was way too sick to even look at it. He’s exhausted, and he’s getting really thin. I called again this morning, and he was even worse. His mom said she was taking him to a specialist today. She promised to call me about it, but so far no word."

 

"The pediatrician couldn’t figure it out?" Rachel asked. 

 

"No. All the blood tests and cultures came back normal, except for signs of mild dehydration from all this vomiting. When he isn’t nauseated, his mom pushes fluids, but it’s still taking a toll on him."

 

"It’s gotta suck, barfing all the time like that," Finn said sympathetically. "Tell him we all hope he gets better soon."

 

The conversation moved on to other topics and Kurt was left worrying and shoveling comforting fried food in his mouth. Blaine was so sick all the time now. Kurt wanted to be a supportive boyfriend, but there wasn’t much he could do. Blaine didn’t want Kurt to see him sick and throwing up, which persisted for hours daily. The rest of the time Blaine was either sleeping or weak and tired …and sometimes cranky. Going out or being intimate was out of the question. Kurt was frustrated, both sexually and otherwise. He felt guilty about his frustration when Blaine couldn’t help it. But mainly he was worried. He hoped the gastroenterologist could figure this out.

 

His phone buzzed. It was Mrs. Anderson, with the sound of suppressed tears in her voice, “Kurt, I’m at the hospital. The doctors are admitting Blaine to treat him for dehydration and do some testing.”

 

Kurt pushed his plate away and clambered off the bench, over Mercedes and Sam. Walking away from his friends’ concerned eyes, he asked, “What do they think is happening?”

 

Mrs. Anderson let out a brief sob. “There’s a palpable mass in his abdomen now, honey. The oncologist will be seeing him this afternoon and he’ll have a sonogram and MRI.”

 

"Cancer?" Kurt breathed.

 

"We don’t know for sure, or what kind… but … it’s possible."

 

Kurt shut his eyes. This can’t be happening. Not Blaine too.

 

"I’ll be right there."

 

*********

 

Kurt and Blaine’s parents stood beside Blaine’s hospital bed. Anna ran a hand over her son’s face. ”It’s going to be okay, honey. Whatever we find out, we’ll get the best care available …”

 

“Anything you need, buddy,” Blaine’s father said from the corner, where he stood with his arms crossed tightly against his body. Hans Anderson was a blonder, craggier version of his older son, with the same blue eyes standing out in his face, heavily tanned from his work as a successful landscaper and contractor. Mr. Anderson also had the same foot-in-mouth disease that his older son did. He was continually saying the wrong thing, with only the best intentions, particularly when it came to anything related to Blaine’s sexuality or his relationship with Kurt. But he tried, which is more than some parents Kurt knew, and he was here for his son. That was the important thing.

 

“Thanks, mom, dad. I’m feeling a lot better already. That medicine they gave me for the nausea’s really helping.” 

 

Kurt stroked Blaine’s hand. It seemed so thin, and Blaine seemed so thin and frail in his hospital gown, so young. It must be cancer, that would explain the weight loss, Kurt guessed. He wished he believed in God so he could pray, so he could do something to try to help other than sit here. But Blaine squeezed his hand, and turned grateful eyes on him. “Thanks for being here,” he whispered, and Kurt managed a comforting smile. He needed to focus on supporting his boyfriend, though being in the hospital and hearing about masses and growths only brought back horrible memories of his mother, and fear for his adored boyfriend. Please be all right. Please.

 

The sonographer, a cheerful looking redheaded woman in patterned yellow scrubs, came in snapping on a pair of gloves. She referred to a folder on the counter and turned, smiling cheerfully. ”I’m Delia, and you are Blaine Anderson, correct?” At Blaine’s nod, she picked up a squeeze bottle of ultrasound gel from a warmer. ”Shirt up for the gooey stuff.”

 

She glanced at Anna and Hans . “You’re mom and dad, I assume? And who’s this?”

 

“My boyfriend Kurt. Is it okay if he stays?”

 

“It’s fine by me.” Squeezing the gel on Blaine’s abdomen, she remarked, “Surgical incision there?”

 

"Yes. I got in a bad car accident a few years ago. So I’m used to all these ultrasounds and MRI’s. I feel like I spent half of ninth grade here."

 

Delia nodded and applied the wand to Blaine’s skin, moving it around his belly with her eye fixed on a monitor for a few minutes, the humming of the machine the only sound in the room. Suddenly, her impassive face changed, almost imperceptibly, and she leaned toward the screen, studying something.

 

“What is it?” Anna asked. Hans drew nearer, worrying his thumbnail in his mouth.

 

“I need to take some measurements,” Delia said, seemingly distracted by whatever she was seeing on the screen. As she moved the wand, it emitted a whoosh, followed by a pattern of rapid thumps that persisted and echoed loudly in the room. 

 

“Is that my pulse?” Blaine asked. “It’s really fast —”

 

“No,” Delia cut him off abruptly, eyes still fixed on the screen as she typed in some numbers with one hand while holding the wand steady. Kurt looked at the monitor and noted a flashing number, fluctuating between 120 and 130. 

 

“What’s that number mean?” Kurt asked, pointing at it. 

 

Delia reached out and turned the screen away from their view. “I need the doctor. Kurt, could you run down the hall and ask the nurses to get Dr. Washington in here right now, please?”

 

Frightened, Kurt nodded and darted out the door. Once outside, he headed toward the nurses’ station. After he related the message, the nurse looked puzzled. ”Are you sure Delia wanted Dr. Washington?”

 

"Yes, and she said right away," Kurt shouted back over his shoulder as he hurried back to Blaine’s side. Delia had dragged another computer next to the bed, and was pulling up some different images on it. Kurt peeked over her shoulder, and managed to decipher that it was an MRI of Blaine’s abdomen, probably from right after the car accident. Delia was scrolling through the images rapidly, her eyes searching for something. Kurt exchanged worried glances with Blaine and his parents.

 

There was a tap on the doorway, and a snowy-haired doctor with glasses peeked in. “I understand you asked for me, Delia?” He looked at Blaine in surprise. “Am I in the right room?”

 

“Yes, Dr. Washington,” Delia said, still intent on the images. “We have Blaine Anderson here, age 17, male, for evaluation of an abdominal mass of recent onset.”

 

Dr. Washington pushed his glasses up on his nose and peered at Blaine. “I see that, but I’m an ob-gyn, not an oncologist. I can get Dr. Lowell, I saw him in the doctor’s lounge a few minutes ago.”

 

“It’s definitely not cancer,” Delia said, shortly. Kurt breathed a sigh of relief.

 

Delia looked up at Blaine, hesitating, before continuing gently.

 

“It’s not cancer. It’s a fetus.”


	3. Fetus in Fetu?

"What?" Hans blurted. “That … that thing on the sonogram’s really … a baby? My son is pregnant?”

 

Dr. Washington went to the monitor and studied the image for several minutes, then consulted Blaine’s written hospital chart, handed to him by Delia. He scrolled through the MRI images on the other monitor, and then looked back at the sonogram intently for several more minutes. 

 

Finally, he turned to Hans and nodded. “Yes and no. That’s a fetus, yes. But Blaine isn’t ‘pregnant’, Mr. Anderson,” Dr. Washington explained, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “This is a case of fetus in fetu. What that means is that Blaine had a twin. But during your wife’s pregnancy, the twin fetus was absorbed, in a manner of speaking, in Blaine’s abdomen. It’s rare, but a well-documented condition, where the absorbed twin continues to live and develop to some degree.”

 

Dr. Washington pulled the computer back over and turned it to face the room, sitting on a stool in front of it and typing some measurements into fields on the screen. “What’s unique about this situation is that, unlike most cases of fetus in fetu, this fetus is … well, perfect.” He gestured to the screen. “This fetus is fully formed. Most fetuses in fetu are anacephalic …” he glanced at Hans’ blank face and explained, “… they lack a brain. They usually lack most internal organs and are misshapen and undeveloped.” He turned back to the sonogram,wide eyed. “Our measurements, in every respect, correspond to a typical, normal eleven-week fetus. Yet Blaine and this twin are both seventeen years old. It’s fascinating. Fascinating,” he murmured, shaking his head and gazing, rapt, at the screen. Delia leaned over and watched intently as well.

 

Kurt didn’t feel fascinated. He felt horrified, and he glanced over at Blaine’s face to try to catch his eye and offer some moral support. Blaine was biting his lip, dazed eyes fixed on the screen. Kurt’s heart melted and he pressed Blaine’s hand.

 

 

“Eleven weeks, you say?” Anna finally piped up.

 

Dr. Washington looked curiously at Anna, nodding. “Yes, that’s right.” Anna took out her appointment calendar and looked at it, counting weeks backwards. 

 

“The other thing that’s fascinating is that there’s a completely functional placenta, and what appears to be a rudimentary uterus type structure, or pouch, perhaps.” Dr. Washington pointed at the screen, and Kurt turned his head sideways. He couldn’t make out much, but …

 

He goggled suddenly, recognizing the fetus in the lower half of the screen. It was moving. Kurt realized with a mounting sense of dismay, that it was most certainly alive, and was even raising a hand to its face. Kurt shut his eyes briefly. My God, Blaine … he thought, overwhelmed.

 

“I have a uterus?” Blaine asked, faintly. “I - - what does that mean? Am I … intersex?”

 

“I don’t think so. It’s not really a uterus … it has no cervix, no opening, and appears to be free floating in the abdominal cavity. It may be some form of scar tissue that’s developed around the fetus. I’m not sure,” Dr. Washington admitted.

 

“The – the baby’s my twin, then? But where’s he been all this time?” Blaine asked, his voice shaking.

 

“I’m not sure,” Dr. Washington said, taking measurements and notes as he spoke. He looked over at the other computer where the MRI images were still on the screen. “There was no evidence of the pseudo-uterus or the fetus when the MRIs were taken two years ago. I have no idea as yet, why the fetus suddenly grew to this size or developed the uterine structure around it, but no doubt that this is what’s causing your symptoms.”

 

“So how do you get rid of it?” Hans asked bluntly.

 

Swiveling in his chair to face them, Dr. Washington crisply answered, “It will require surgery, obviously. There are two possible approaches. The laparoscopic approach would leave less scarring. But … I’d like to wait until we can get some additional experts here, and consider a small incision so we can remove everything intact for study. We’d also like to film the surgery, and with your permission, write this up and present it as a case study,” he said hopefully.

 

Before Blaine could say anything, his father started shaking his head, declaring, “No way! This has to stay quiet. And it has to happen today, and you have to use that scopic thing. That’s safer, and we can take him home and he can forget this whole thing happened.”

 

“Mr. Anderson, I understand you’re thinking of Blaine’s welfare. We are too. But this is an extremely rare phenomenon, one that really should be studied,” Dr. Washington pleaded. “This is one-of-a-kind presentation of fetus in fetu.”

 

“That’s because it isn’t fetus in fetu,” Anna interrupted. “I know. I’m a doctor.”

 

“Oh – Mrs. – Dr. Anderson, I didn’t realize - - what’s your specialty?” Dr. Washington asked.

 

“Ancient history,” she answered brightly. “And this isn’t Blaine’s twin. It’s his child. I think he is pregnant through the power of the icons of Ariadne.”

 

There was a silence in the room as Kurt, Dr. Washington, and Hans all stared at Anna with their mouths open. 

 

After an awkward pause, Dr. Washington said, ignoring the interruption, “As I was saying, this is a rare opportunity to study a case of fetus in fetu with an extremely developed twin …”

 

Anna was undeterred. “But it’s not a twin. I just said, it’s Blaine’s son or daughter.”

 

“Mrs. Anderson – “

 

She shook her head adamantly, the ever-present pencil in her bun slipping to the floor with the force of it. “You said the baby is eleven weeks, right?” She pointed to her calendar, showing Blaine. “It was exactly eleven weeks ago that you were at the museum, Blaine. You told me you had a bad shock from Ariadne’s statue, and I saw the blisters on your hand. But they were gone before I could get the first aid kit.”

 

“That – that’s right,” Blaine said shakily. He was looking at Anna’s calendar, the pages trembling in his hands.

 

“Stop it, Anna,” Kurt hissed. “This isn’t a joke, Blaine is sick and this isn’t a time for silliness.” He liked Anna, but she was being ridiculous.

 

Dr. Washington nodded. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Anderson … but I have to agree with your son’s friend. This is a scientific, medical matter, and - -“

 

“But you said that no other case of fetus in fetu has presented this way. No other case of a suddenly appearing uterus, a placenta, and a perfectly formed baby.” She patted Blaine’s shoulder, straightening the sheet over him. “The only logical explanation is that … he’s pregnant. With my grandchild.”

 

Kurt wanted to bodily pick up Anna’s small form and carry both it and her crazy ideas out of the room and away from Blaine, but supposed that would be inappropriate. He settled for giving her a warning look.

 

“It’s not a true uterus – it’s - - that was a misnomer on my part. There’s no cervix .. it - it —,” Dr. Washington stammered desperately, clearly aware that he was losing control of the situation.

 

“And where was it two years ago?” Anna demanded triumphantly. “And is it a coincidence that the baby is eleven weeks, when eleven weeks ago Blaine was struck by a force from Ariadne’s statue?” She pulled out her iPad. “I’ve researched Ariadne’s legend extensively. The icons have caused vicarious labor in gay men before, according to Plutarch as well as some more obscure historical references,” she mused. “It’s my theory that they were pregnant … just like Blaine now.”

 

Kurt felt his eyes goggle nearly out of their sockets as Anna spoke.

 

“You’re talking crazy, Anna,” Hans interrupted. “That thing is just … a twin that got stuck in there somehow and it just needs to come out, so Blaine can stop getting sick and get back to school.”

 

“Can I say something?” Blaine finally shouted, and everyone turned to him.

 

“What is it, mahal?” Anna asked soothingly.

 

Blaine closed his eyes. “This … this is a nightmare,” he whispered. “I’m scared stiff. But something inside tells me … I think Mama’s right.”

 

“Blaine!” Kurt cried, shocked, leaping up to stare at him. “You can’t be serious. You can’t really believe a magical statute got you pregnant!” He and Hans looked at each other, joined in an opinion about something for the very first time, and together stared back at Blaine, aghast.

 

“I don’t know. I just feel like this is my baby,” Blaine said softly. “And … I feel like if Ariadne really has the power to make men have babies, gay men, then … maybe I should try to go through with the pregnancy. I owe it to the gay community –“

 

“You are not pregnant!” Hans cut in with a shout that reverberated through the small room. “Get that through your head. You’re getting that thing cut out of you for your own good and no arguments!”

 

Blaine’s face turned red, and his eyes narrowed. “You can’t tell me what to do, and you can’t make me have an abortion if I say no!”

 

Kurt groaned internally. Blaine and his father had a way of butting heads constantly, with Hans getting frustrated and issuing orders, and Blaine digging in his heels and doing the exact opposite. He recalled an instance where they had been out shopping and Blaine had seen a display of purple and green patterned jackets, with plaid shirts in the same pattern beside them. Blaine’s eyes had sparkled as he took both down, and picked up a garish bow tie from a nearby table. “Aren’t these great? I’m getting them all,” Blaine had whispered, excited. “My dad will hate them.” 

 

Kurt knew how stubborn Blaine could be, how contrary where his father was concerned. Ordinarily, he didn’t mind Blaine’s weird mini-rebellions. But he didn’t want Blaine’s health affected by this ongoing feud. Buying an ugly bowtie to spite his father was one thing; delaying or refusing treatment for this serious condition was beyond ridiculous. But seeing the strain and fear and stubbornness battling on Blaine’s face, he approached Blaine carefully.

 

Sitting back down on the bed beside Blaine, he appealed to him, gently, “Blaine, come on. That … growth or whatever … it’s not your baby, okay? The doctor told you, it’s a twin that just … decided to start growing now for some reason. But it’s making you ill! You need to have it taken care of, for your own health.” He stroked Blaine’s arm above the IV port, turning his best Kurt-eyes on Blaine. As much as Blaine loved saying no to his dad, Blaine hated saying no to Kurt, especially when Kurt used this face.

 

But it wasn’t working this time. Sparing Kurt a disappointed look, Blaine shook his head. “No I’m not. Not until I know more. You don’t understand. You’ve never been pregnant.” Anna held his other hand, and squeezed it, smiling down at him supportively, and Blaine looked up at her with gratitude. Kurt resisted the urge to slap his own forehead in frustration. He looked helplessly at the other men in the room.

 

 

“Mrs. Anderson, I … I don’t know what to say,” Dr. Washington started.

 

“It’s Dr. Anderson.”

 

“Yes. I apologize. But … well. I … I work in science, not fables. Whether it’s the hormone imbalance or something else, it’s clear Blaine isn’t being rational - -“

 

Blaine shouted, “I’m right here, and I can hear you! My hormones are fine! I’m scared and I’m upset, and I’m not fucking enjoying this, but I’m the only one being rational here! You all are just refusing to look at the evidence Mom just told you about!”

 

Ignoring the outburst, and guiding Kurt, Anna and Hans farther away, to just outside the doorway, Dr. Washington continued, “And … I’m afraid I have to order a psychiatric consult for Blaine … and we may have to speak to the hospital’s lawyers about options here.” 

 

“What options?” Kurt asked suspiciously.

 

“Well, whether the hospital needs to go to Court to compel Blaine to submit to the surgery. It’s in his medical best interest - - he’s getting very sick from this situation, and losing weight.”

 

“That could be morning sickness. There’s medications and treatment for that, and soon it should clear up anyway, once he hits the second trimester,” Anna pointed out. “This is Blaine’s right to decide for himself, and he needs time to think about what he wants to do.”

 

Dr. Washington gave her a withering glance. Putting a hand on Hans’ arm and looking at Kurt,he continued, “I hope I can count on you two to try to talk Blaine into accepting treatment for this condition. ”

 

“They’re not talking me into anything,” a voice cut in. The group of men jumped; Blaine was out of bed dragging his IV pole beside him. He stood there in the doorway to his room, with as much dignity as his hospital gown and bright red and green socks permitted. “I refuse the operation. I want a second opinion from somebody who has an open mind about this,” Blaine demanded. 

 

Dr. Washington started down the hallway without a word. Leaning into the hallway, Blaine shouted after him, “And I want a lawyer!”


	4. Denial

Kurt just couldn’t understand what was wrong with his boyfriend. Or his boyfriend’s mother.

The shock of learning he had a parasitic twin seemed to have unhinged Blaine, who stubbornly insisted that he believed the newly discovered fetus could be his son or daughter, conceived by actual magic. Anna’s preposterous mythological suggestion had taken hold of Blaine … and there was no shaking it loose, not by Blaine’s father, by Dr. Washington, or even by Kurt, all of whom pleaded without success for Blaine to see reason. Privately, Kurt worried that Blaine had suddenly lost his mind.

Dr. Washington thought so too, and brought in every psychiatrist with privileges at the hospital, hoping to keep Blaine in the hospital as a psychiatric patient, to be treated with psychotropic drugs until he regained his judgment. To Kurt’s surprise, after the psychiatrists, one after the other, had interviewed Blaine at length, they all agreed: there were no symptoms of any dangerous mental illness to justify retaining Blaine against his will in the psychiatric unit of the hospital or medicating him over objection. Without evidence that Blaine would harm himself or others, there was no basis to force treatment on him.

Increasingly frustrated, Hans and Dr. Washington turned next to the hospital’s lawyer, a middle-aged woman in a rumpled suit named Margaret Myers, to file papers at court to force Blaine to accept treatment. Ms. Myers had agreed to meet with Dr. Washington, the Andersons and Kurt, who Blaine authorized to hear all of his medical information. “I need someone on my side at that meeting,” he’d told Kurt; but while Kurt would always be on Blaine’s side, he was increasingly worried by Blaine’s mental state and physical well-being.

 

Sitting in the lawyer’s office on the top floor of the hospital, he nervously twirled a lock of hair in his fingers. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson were sitting awkwardly side by side, but Kurt knew they were completely opposed over Blaine’s medical treatment and condition. Finally, Ms. Myers came breezing in, slamming the door behind her and sitting at her desk, strewn with medical records and files. She got right to the point. “I’ve reviewed Blaine’s files, including your consultation, Dr. Washington, and the psychiatrist reports. It’s clear I have no role here. Even if Blaine is delusional, he isn’t a danger to others, and not an immediate danger to himself, according to the psychiatrists here. So he can’t be forced to take psychiatric medication.”

 

“What about taking him to court to force him to have that thing removed?” Hans demanded. 

 

Ms. Myers sighed. “This is Ohio. No one can be forced by a court to have an abortion, it’s part of the new abortion laws effective in 2014. Ohio Revised Code 2701.15,” she recited glibly, pulling a navy blue book with gold stamped letters on its cover from a series of similar books on the wall behind her. She opened it and pointed to the section.

 

“It’s not an abortion!” Hans exploded. “He’s not pregnant! The doctor said so! If you won’t take him to Court, I’ll hire a lawyer and get this done myself. There has to be a way to force him to get treatment for this … this condition!”

Remembering Blaine’s plea that someone be his advocate in the meeting, Kurt reluctantly objected. “Hans, no,” he said, looking at Anna. “He’s - - he’s not ready. He has to be the one to decide for himself. If you force him to have the procedure he’ll hate you for it.”

“I’m willing to take that chance. This is getting out of hand. It’s been a week now, farting around with all these specialists and psychiatrists. That thing is growing, Dr. Washington, you said so yourself at the last ultrasound.” He looked in frustration at his wife. “Anna! Back me up on this, please!”

Anna sighed unhappily. “And Dr. Washington also said the baby is normal. In every respect. Blaine could continue to carry this child and, possibly, give birth by cesarean, for all anyone here knows. It’s his choice, and I don’t believe he’d ever forgive us if we took that choice away against his will.”

Hans leaped up, sending his chair crashing to the floor, and shouted, “That’s your answer to everything he does, isn’t it, Anna? He wants to go to private school and run away from his bullies. You said, let him. Then the next year, he wants to change schools after we’ve already paid the deposit for his slot at Dalton, so he can play footsie with his boyfriend back at public school. You say, it’s his choice. Not this time, Anna! He’s a child and we have to be the parents here!”

“He’s the patient, and it’s his body,” Ms. Myers cut in. “This hospital won’t take him to Court to force him to see things your way and have surgery against his will. You do what you have to, we’ll obey a court order if I’m wrong and you can get one, but I won’t file papers without a legal basis.”

“If the fetus isn’t viable, or it could be proven it’s just that fetus in fetu thing, though, maybe it would make him decide for himself to get the treatment,” Kurt piped up, trying to calm the situation down. “Is there anything else you can do to give him some proof, Doctor?”

Dr. Washington nodded. “I think so. And I think you’re right about how to approach him. Blaine’s so entrenched in this idea of being pregnant, that forcing him to end what he sees as a pregnancy against his will would be traumatic. He’d probably have to be physically restrained to be put under anesthesia. It wouldn’t be pretty.”

Kurt swallowed hard, feeling the tears starting up, at the thought of Blaine being tied down and chemically knocked out, then cut open against his wishes. No. That couldn’t happen. Blaine had to agree to it, he had to. He would have to come to his senses and see this was inevitable, he … he just had to.

Ms. Myers cut in, “And I can tell you the Courts won’t order surgery unless it’s a matter of serious physical harm or death to Blaine, even if your lawyer presents it as ordinary surgery, not an abortion. And from what I’ve seen in his chart, Blaine isn’t in grave physical danger without the surgery right now, correct?”

 

Dr. Washington rubbed his eyes. “I can tell you that if that fetus keeps growing, and keeps making him ill, it could come to that. But right now, no. You’re right. The nausea and vomiting are under reasonable control on medication and fluids and so far, his vital organs appear to be functioning and unimpeded by the fetal growth. So I’d have to say no, it isn’t an emergency at this point. That may change in the future, but right now, let’s try something else.” He stood up and gestured to Anna and Hans. “With your permission, I’m going to suggest another specialist to Blaine.”

 

Hans and Anna looked at each other. As Hans nodded, Anna shook her head, murmuring, “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s right to pressure him - -”

 

“That’s not what I’m planning. I just think we should give Blaine more facts to work with. Shall we see Blaine now?” Dr. Washington said. 

 

After saying goodbye to Ms. Myers, the group followed Dr. Washington upstairs and into Blaine’s room. Now that the nausea had subsided somewhat, Blaine was up and out of his bed, sitting in a chair reading, his picked-at lunch on the tray on a table beside him. Kurt could see Blaine was holding a book on pregnancy, and gritted his teeth.

 

“Hello, Blaine,” Dr. Washington said brightly. “How are we feeling today?”

Blaine looked at him through narrowed eyes. “We’re fine. Actually, so fine that I think I can go home today.”

Dr. Washington pulled up a chair across from Blaine’s. “What’s the rush?”

“I … just don’t feel comfortable here, and I don’t think I need to be in the hospital for treatment. It’s pretty obvious you’re just keeping me here looking for ways to keep this pregnancy from going forward. Or to prove I’m crazy.” He put a bookmark in What to Expect When You’re Expecting. “No offense but I want to establish with a different outpatient Ob-Gyn.”

“No offense taken, Blaine. The thing is … I think you’re right. Your … pregnancy … is too unusual for my scope of practice. I imagine it’s out of the scope of most doctors’ practice. You can see why, can’t you?”

Blaine nodded cautiously. 

“I’ve spoken to Dr. Kate Shelley about your case. She’s very interested. She’s a high-risk pregnancy specialist, and she’d like to come to examine you and run some tests. I think you’d agree that for sake of your own health, and … and your baby, you should be examined and followed very closely by the most expert physicians possible, am I right?”

“Sure … okay. I’ll see another doctor, I guess. Hopefully she’ll have a more open mind. Where is she coming from? I’d like to Google her, know what I’m getting into.”

“That’s reasonable. She practices maternal-fetal medicine in Columbus. She can be here toward the end of the week. Will you agree to stay inpatient until she can see you, and listen to what she has to say? Even if she agrees with me that this fetus is simply your absorbed twin, and you have no chance of carrying it to term?”

Blaine flickered a suspicious glance around the room at Hans and Kurt, then back to the doctor. “I’ll listen … but you all have to understand, I won’t have any surgery until someone can prove to me that … that this isn’t my baby.”

“We understand your position, Blaine. I’ll call Dr. Shelley and let her know you’re willing to see her. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, if you’ll step outside so we can discuss the details?”

Blaine’s mother leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “Try to finish your lunch, sweetheart. I’ll go talk to the doctor and be back soon.”

“Hang in there, buddy,” Hans said gruffly, punching Blaine on the shoulder. 

Blaine stiffened, rubbing his arm. “Thanks, Dad.” 

The adults filed out and Blaine slumped in his chair, looking out the window and pointedly away from Kurt.

“Hey. So.” Kurt sat in the chair vacated by Dr. Washington, and slid it around next to Blaine. “You’ll never guess what’s going on in glee club,” he said, hoping to interest Blaine in something outside of this bizarre situation. “Mr. Schuester and Sue are feuding again.”

“I don’t really care what those two idiots are doing, Kurt. I have my own problems right now,” Blaine said grumpily, still staring away from Kurt, as if the wooded area behind the hospital held some intense interest for him.

“Okay, sheesh. Just trying to make conversation. Sorry.” Kurt drummed his fingers on the arms of his chair and looked hungrily at Blaine’s half-full lunch tray, and his eyes lit up at the sight of an untouched pudding cup. He’d had lunch already, but … “Can I have that?” he asked. “Unless you were saving it.”

“Take it,” Blaine said, shooting a look at Kurt’s waistline. “Are those new pants?”

Kurt peeled the foil back from the top of the pudding cup and dove in. “So what if they are?” he said through a mouthful of pudding. Surely Blaine can’t tell … I’ve gone up a size and had to buy new pants? He considered putting the dessert back, but he was so hungry. “You have a problem with me buying new clothes all of a sudden?”

“Not at all,” Blaine said. “To the contrary. I’m really glad to see your appetite’s still so good, and I don’t mind sitting here doing nothing except getting sick, while you go shopping.”

Annoyed at Blaine’s unusual snide attitude, Kurt licked the spoon deliberately, then ran a finger around the inside of the empty cup and licked that too. “If you want your nausea to go away, there’s a way to do that. The doctors have told you a thousand times, this isn’t a pregnancy, and there’s no point in prolonging this situation - -”

“Don’t start that again, Kurt, okay? I know you don’t support me in this. Message received.”

Kurt tossed the empty cup on Blaine’s tray and fought off the urge to ask if he could have half of the turkey sandwich Blaine had tried to eat for lunch. He was about to snark back at Blaine, but he noticed his boyfriend swiping tears away surreptitiously with the edge of his hospital gown sleeve, and his heart melted. He reached out and rubbed Blaine’s neck gently. “I’m sorry, honey. I don’t know what to say anymore,” he said sadly. “I’m trying to be supportive, I really am, but your health is my first concern. I’m so worried about you. That’s the only reason I want you to follow the doctors’ advice and get better as soon as possible.”

The tears were flowing freely now, and Blaine turned and buried his face in Kurt’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I’m being such an asshole, but I’m so tired and sick, and … God, Kurt, please … please forgive me … I need you to be here for me. I need to have you on my side. If I go through with this … if I have this baby. I - - I’m going to be a freak show. I’ll probably have to drop out of school. I’m terrified of what’s going to happen to me, what people are going to say …” he choked, dissolving in sobs. “I need to know you’ll still love me even if my dad and the rest of the world is against me on this.”

“I’ll always love you, no matter what,” Kurt whispered as he held him, stroking his back and humming soothingly. When the tears slowed, he pointed out, gently, hoping to appeal to Blaine’s sense of logic, “But Blaine, what you said about the world accepting — your “baby” — that’s … kind of the point, isn’t it? Let’s just assume for a minute — just for argument sake, that you’re right that you’re … pregnant. Okay?” he stroked Blaine’s hand patiently, gazing into his eyes as Blaine rested his head against his shoulder.

Blaine held his gaze, listening. 

Encouraged, Kurt continued, speaking as kindly as he could, “Even if it were true that this is your baby, and even if you could carry it to term, your life would basically be over at school, if you went through with a pregnancy. And the ‘baby’, well, what kind of life would he have? How would people react to a baby who was born from, I don’t know, spontaneous generation or budding or … ‘magic’ if that’s what you think this is, to a man, and - -” 

Blaine pushed away from Kurt’s embrace and stood up unsteadily, turning to the window. “You can go now.”

Kurt felt the frustration rising again. “What? What do you mean? I was just saying what you said five minutes ago!” he protested. “And it’s the truth!” Suddenly, Kurt was exhausted, by the situation, by the long weeks of worry and now the obstinacy of his boyfriend who simply refused to accept reality. “Why won’t you listen to reason, Blaine? All of us are worried about you, and love you! We just want you to get the help you need! What on earth are you trying to prove?” he shouted, furious tears rising up mutinously. 

Before Blaine could reply, his mother was in the doorway. “I heard shouting,” Anna said as came in, looking worried. “You two weren’t having an argument, were you?”

“Kurt was just leaving,” Blaine said, his voice strained.

Kurt bit his lip as he watched Anna help a pale, shaky Blaine back to bed. His anger drained away as quickly as it had risen up, and he felt ashamed. Blaine was going through a tough time, and probably all those pregnancy hormones the doctors said that fetus thing was churning up didn’t help. Hell, he was on edge himself lately …. snapping at his father and friends, now Blaine, feeling like he could tear his hair out at any minute… it must be the worry and stress that was getting to him. Between Blaine’s illness and waiting to hear from NYADA, he was under a lot of strain. 

That must be it. He was getting so tired and irritable, it must be stress.

He realized that he needed to get a grip, back off of Blaine, and just be there for him. When Dr. Shelley came, surely she’d convince Blaine, somehow, that this was not a real pregnancy. Let her be the bad cop, the heavy. That shouldn’t be Kurt’s role … he was there to support Blaine no matter what, as his lover and friend, and he had to make sure Blaine knew he’d be there for him, always. Blaine needed him, even if he was being irrational right now. This approach was only backing Blaine farther into a corner at this point, making him even more stubborn, and this whole horrible situation was just coming between him and the boy he loved.

“Honey … I - - I’m sorry,” he managed. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice. I’m just concerned about you, that’s all. I love you so much. You know that, don’t you?” He leaned over the bed, smoothing Blaine’s hair back, and looked into his eyes. “Just promise me you’ll keep an open mind when Dr. Shelley comes?”

“I will if you do,” Blaine responded, holding his gaze.

Kurt sighed and leaned over to kiss Blaine’s lips softly. “Okay,” he said unwillingly. “I promise.”


	5. Frustration

The gym echoed with the thundering footsteps of twenty-five 18 year olds and the deafening, megaphone-enhanced shouts of Coach Sue Sylvester urging them through laps in eighth period gym class. “C’mon you pudgy, misshapen, Dorito-eating, internet-addicted babies! Pick up those feet before your rear ends convert completely to butter-flavored Crisco!” 

 

 

Kurt’s breath was already coming in heaving, strained gasps, and they were only half-way through the class. The physical education budget had been cut, again, and gym class therefore consisted of only activities that required little or no equipment. He’d been grateful that at least today, it wasn’t climbing the rope or worse yet, dodgeball, but running laps was turning out to be getting harder and harder these days. He’d weighed himself in the locker room before starting class and was shocked to see he’d gained another three pounds since last week. He doggedly kept forcing himself through the paces, but it was so hard. He was so tired - - 

 

 

“Lady Hummel! You call that running? And invest in a sports bra, will you? Nobody wants to see your man-boobs bouncing all over the place!” Sue screamed.

 

 

Kurt was already flushed with the exertion of running, or he probably would have turned bright red with humiliation. He plodded forward, but couldn’t seem to pick up the pace … the other students kept steadily passing him on the right one by one. Feeling Sue’s eyes on him, he tried to stave off another verbal attack by surging forward a little faster, but as he did, a wave of dizziness hit him and he staggered, crashing into Becky and landing in a tangled heap.

 

 

“Watch where you are going, fat ass,” Becky shouted, shoving him off. Most of the rest of the class kept circling the gym, drilled by Sue to keep running no matter what, but Quinn paused to help Kurt up and lead him, shaken, over to the bleachers next to her gym bag. She sat him down and murmured, “Head between the knees. Slow, even breaths.” She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a Gatorade. “Take a sip of this.”

 

 

He followed her advice, and soon the dizziness subsided, leaving only the bone-crushing fatigue he’d been battling for weeks now. “Thanks, Quinn.”

 

 

“Don’t mention it.” She rubbed his back in gentle circles and he shut his eyes, just for a moment, head in his hands. “Not to change the subject, but how’s Blaine today?”

 

 

“Uh… well, they don’t know. Not sure,” Kurt said, studying the floor and avoiding her gaze. Blaine really didn’t need the whole world knowing about what was wrong, but he wasn’t sure what to tell people about his condition. Looking back at Quinn, he said, “they’re just treating those symptoms he was having, you know. Keeping him hydrated and nourished, all that.”

 

 

“Weird that you’ve both been kind of sick at the same time.”

 

 

He looked quizzically at Quinn. “What are you talking about? I’m not sick! My appetite is great! I feel fine most of the time, just a little tired.”

 

 

She quirked an eyebrow. “A little tired? You fell asleep in Schuester’s class three times this week, Kurt.”

 

 

“That’s because it was boring. He doesn’t know any more about history than he did about Spanish. All he does is read from the textbook.”

 

 

“You’ve also been too tired to participate in any of the challenges in Glee for weeks.”

 

 

Kurt sighed. “That’s because they were also boring. Mr. Schue means well, but he ran out of good ideas in our first year in Glee Club.” He turned the Gatorade over in his hands, then sighed again. “That’s not really it. I’m just … not sleeping well, worrying about NYADA and Blaine.”

 

 

“It could be worse, I suppose. You could be Blaine, expecting a baby and not getting much support from your boyfriend.”

 

 

Kurt’s head snapped up. “What - - what are you talking about? What - - Blaine told you?”

 

 

She shrugged gracefully, reaching a slender hand to brush a piece of lint from her gym sock. “He said he needed to talk about it with someone who’d been there, accidentally pregnant, and decided to go through with it even if nobody was on their side.”

 

 

“That’s nice, but last time I checked, you haven’t been where Blaine is right now. You weren’t exactly a freak of medical science. And he’s not - -” Kurt lowered his voice and looked around. “He’s not pregnant. It’s all just a big mess and pretty soon he’s going to get proof of that. The high-risk pregnancy doctor was here yesterday, and she did an amniocentesis.: Kurt shuddered at the memory of the long needle plunging into Blaine’s abdomen as Blaine clutched his hand and stared at the ultrasound image on the screen, showing the fetus and the needle beside it, drawing a small amount of fluid from the sac. The results were expected in a few days. ”That’s going to prove once and for all, this isn’t Blaine’s baby.”

 

 

“High risk pregnancy doctor. Amniocentesis. I don’t know. That all sounds like a pregnancy to me. Blaine showed me all the printouts from his 3D ultrasounds. It looks like a baby to me too. If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, then it’s a duck. Which means Blaine is pregnant.” 

 

 

“Okay, then. Explain who’s the father if Blaine is the mother? And Blaine doesn’t have female sex organs, so where’d he get the egg? It’s all so … so stupid, I can’t believe Blaine can’t see this is impossible.”

 

 

Quinn looked sideways at him. “It’s not impossible. It’s there. You’re the one who can’t face the truth. Blaine’s mom had a lot of research sent over from Cyprus … apparently there were a lot of ancient texts from the island, about men in labor associated with those statues. All of them went into labor at the same time, during the feast of Ariadne-Athena - - and translating that into the modern calendar, that’s exactly when Blaine would be full-term. Is that a coincidence?”

 

 

“Yes. That is the exact definition of a coincidence. I really hope you’re not encouraging him, Quinn.”

 

 

“I’m supporting him. Like you should be. He’s frightened but he’s determined to go through with this, and I admire him for it.”

 

 

Kurt paused. With all his efforts at swaying Blaine, he hadn’t really ever pursued the answer to an important question. Why on earth did Blaine want to have a baby? He was a teenage boy. He wasn’t financially independent, or even out of high school. To say it would be difficult for Blaine and the baby would be the understatement of the century. He raised his eyes to Quinn’s. “Did he say why he thinks he wants to have a baby?”

 

 

She smiled kindly at him. “You should hear that from him, I think. Ask him.” She patted him on the knee and bounded back to join the line of running high schoolers circling the gym at full speed and going nowhere, as Kurt sat moodily lost in thought.


	6. Destiny

Kurt hurried into the hospital cafeteria, scanning the room and spotting Blaine, waving excitedly from a corner table, with two frozen yogurts on the table in front of him. He frowned and went over to join his boyfriend.

“So this is why you begged me to bring you some street clothes? So you could make an escape?” he scolded. “The nurses are going to have your head.”

Blaine laughed and slid the yogurt over toward Kurt. “I don’t care … I wanted to put something on that didn’t gape in the back for a change - -”

Kurt smirked. “I dunno. That style had points in its favor,” he teased, happy to see Blaine smiling again and looking so much better. He picked up the spoon Blaine handed him and started in on his frozen yogurt. He closed his eyes blissfully. Raspberry … it was both delicious and a little erotic, since it reminded him of the scent of Blaine’s hair. It had been too long since he held Blaine from behind and … He shifted in his chair awkwardly, willing the images back. They were in public.

But it had been forever.

“I was going stir crazy up there,” Blaine admitted. “I want to go home, go back to school, get on with it, you know? It’s so boring when you’re not here. This is like some big adventure, just coming downstairs for a change. I miss being able to come and go as I please.” He licked his spoon deliberately, his eyes sultry and fixed on Kurt’s, his foot sliding over to rub against Kurt’s ankle. “And I miss other things too.”

Every part of his body was at attention now. God, it had been so long, and he was so horny … hornier than he ever remembered being. “I — I miss those … things, too,” he admitted, reaching across the table and placing a hand over Blaine’s. Their eyes were locked for a moment, before the spoons clattered to the table and Blaine jumped up, dragging Kurt by the hand. “C’mon,” he said hoarsely, pulling Kurt behind him and hurtling out of the cafeteria. They ran down the hallway, and out the front door. “Where’s your car?” Blaine asked, breathlessly. “Never mind, I see it,” he answered, and the two of them ran toward it together, giggling.

 

Heart pounding with excitement, Kurt clicked his key to open the doors to the Navigator, and with a quick look around, climbed into the backseat with Blaine, slamming the door shut behind them and pouncing on his sweetheart, pinning him to the seat. “We’re going to be in so much trouble for this,” he moaned, kissing Blaine feverishly and desperately unbuckling belts and snapping open buttons, pulling down underwear in the front and sliding his dick alongside Blaine’s, all while staying out of sight below the windows. The last time they’d made love in this car, they’d seemed to … fit … a lot better, he noticed with some fleeting, distant sense of embarrassment. He had put on a bit of a spare tire, and though Blaine had lost weight overall from his morning sickness, his belly was beginning to swell from … from the fetus. It was a little awkward, and their rounded bellies were rubbing against each other as much as … other parts. But it felt so, so good to slot their bodies together, to hold each other again, and Kurt forgot to be shy about his body in a few spine-tingling strokes. They fell into their familiar rhythm, whimpering and moaning loving words as they rutted against each other, kissing frantically and tangling hands in clothes and hair. The car was rocking and the windows steamed up, but there was no time to worry about any passersby who might tap on the window any moment. Too soon, they both climaxed, and lay panting and sweaty, sprawled across the car seat.

 

Kurt lay catching his breath and listening to Blaine’s heartbeat slowing beside him. It felt so right like this, spending time together again, even if it was only the parking lot of the hospital with the spring sunshine pouring in the windows. He pressed a tender little kiss to Blaine’s face.

 

“Missed that so much,” Kurt sighed, as soon as he could speak. “I love you so much. Miss you so much,” he said, tears pricking at his eyes. 

 

“It won’t be long now until I get out, I think,” Blaine said lazily, reaching into the compartment between the two front seats for wipes to help clean them both up. “I’m feeling so much better now that I’m almost fifteen weeks. I haven’t been sick at all in almost two days. Mom said that would happen once I got into the second trimester.”

 

Kurt’s face fell. “About that,” he ventured, zipping up his pants, “I .. I’m curious about something. Well … I guess I’m wondering why you’re so … enthusiastic about having a baby.” He sat up and held out his arms to Blaine, who curled up next to him on the seat, his head on Kurt’s shoulder.

 

“Don’t you know?” Blaine asked shyly.

 

“I honestly don’t, but I want to try to understand what you’re holding on to this … fetus for. Even if it’s your baby, you can’t have thought you’d have children for years and years, so why would you go through with this assuming you could?”

 

Blaine played with the buttons on Kurt’s shirt for a moment, then slowly said, “You haven’t read the legends my mother researched. But there were five couples who experienced miracle pregnancies because of the shrine. Three of them were gay couples. But all five were true lovers.” He looked up, his eyes shining hopefully. “Like you and me. Soulmates.”

 

Kurt couldn’t think of what to say to that, or exactly where Blaine was going with this. He stroked Blaine’s back softly and tried to understand.

 

Blaine murmured, “I always figured someday you and I would have children … we’d adopt them, or have someone else carry them. And of course we’d love them as much as any straight couple ever loved their biological children. But … this baby …” he put Kurt’s hand over his slightly swollen belly and gazed up at him adoringly, “this is a miracle of our love. A miracle only comes along once in a lifetime. I choose to embrace this one,” he whispered. “It’s fate.”

 

Kurt froze. This talk of miracles. Of souls, and fate. He loved Blaine with all his heart, but he believed in what he could see and touch and feel, not crazy ideas and flights of faith. And what Blaine was saying ran against everything he knew to be real. 

 

“Blaine … Blaine, you can’t … you can’t think this is my child inside you,” he said hoarsely. “Blaine, we’re both men. That’s … that’s impossible. A baby can’t happen without an egg, no matter what you wish might be true. What you’re saying is impossible.”

 

Blaine looked hurt.“I don’t know how it happened, Kurt! But our love created this baby, I know that! In my heart you’re the other father. And what about those ancient love stories - - the legends - -”

 

“Legends! They’re just legends, fables! They’re not real. Blaine, please stop living in a fantasy world, for your own sake - - You have to accept that … whatever is happening inside you has nothing to do with me, or with what we feel about each other! Please! Don’t keep delaying the inevitable because you’re romanticizing all this!”

 

Blaine’s eyes were brimming with tears, his lips a thin line. “You were holding my hand when the baby was conceived fourteen weeks ago. You felt that … that force. I don’t know how, but our love and that magic — made a baby. It’s ours, Kurt, somehow, I feel that with everything in me - - and that’s why I won’t let anything take it away. It’s meant to be, and I … I want this baby. I couldn’t live with myself if I let anything happen, and … it was our only chance to have a baby together that’s part of both of us somehow.”

 

Kurt shook his head in disbelief. 

 

Disappointment written all over his face, Blaine bit his lip and looked away. “Well, you wanted to know why I want this baby. That’s why. Because it’s ours. Sorry you can’t see it.” He tucked in his shirt and swiftly shoved the door open, hopping out and slamming the door forcefully behind him in Kurt’s stunned face.


	7. The Future Calls

"Kurt?"

 

"I - I’m awake!" Kurt blurted, head jerking up. The New Directions giggled and hooted derisively, and he looked around the choir room, blinking, and then up at Mr. Schuester. 

 

"I think you were asleep, Kurt, but we’ll talk about that when you get back from the office. Your father is here to see you." 

 

Kurt’s chest felt tight and his legs unsteady under him as he got up and hurried to the main office. His father, here, in the middle of the day? It could only mean bad news, probably about Blaine. Something must have happened, he must have taken some kind of turn for the worse —

 

As he rounded a corner, he saw his dad rushing toward him with a big smile on his face, holding up a letter. ”Hey, kiddo! It’s here! The letter from NYADA!”

 

 

Kurt slowed a bit, hesitating, and let his father cross the rest of the distance between them. He reached out and took the letter, uncertainly.

 

"Well, aren’t you going to open it?" Burt urged him. 

 

"Let’s go into that empty classroom over there," Kurt said, stalling. Rachel’s letter had come two days ago, and despite their agreement to open them together, she had caved in and read hers. She had been accepted. It was very likely that his letter was late because his was mailed out with the rejections. He sat down weakly at one of the desks and laid the envelope down, centering it in front of him and then folding his hands to survey it. This school year had been pretty uniformly disappointing, from an academic and career point of view … he’d lost the election, Blaine had beaten him out for the lead in the school play, and he hadn’t gotten a solo in any competition even when half the club had quit and been replaced by the jazz band. He knew he deserved to get in, but he wasn’t feeling too confident that Carmen Tibideaux would see it.

 

Burt took his cap off and blew out an impatient breath. He moved toward the desk as if to take the letter. ”If you don’t open that thing now, kiddo, I’m gonna have to. The suspense is killing me.”

 

Kurt flickered a glance up at his father and picked up the envelope. ”Okay, Dad.” He slipped his finger under the flap, lifting it, and extracted the letter. He scanned the contents, then reread it. Then a third time.

 

"Kurt?" his dad ventured. "Bad news?"

 

"No." He held up the letter. "I got in."

 

"Oh my God, Kurt!" his father exploded, grabbing the letter and looking at it proudly. "Son, I’m so, so proud of you. You’ve done it. You’ve proved all of them wrong, everybody who’s ever doubted you can just suck on your dust right now. They can suck it," he crowed. "This is so amazing … I have to admit I’m gonna miss you like crazy, but this is your future calling and the sky’s the limit, buddy."

 

Kurt felt oddly empty and flat, considering the great news. His father’s next words hit the nail on the head as to the reason why.

 

"So, who’s gonna tell Blaine? He’s been under the weather so long, he’ll be glad to get some good news, I bet. You gotta let me do it," he chortled. "He’s gonna be beside himself. He never doubted you, and he’s gonna be as happy and proud of you as I am." Burt looked up. "So you want to head over to the hospital and we can give him the big news?"

 

Kurt folded the letter and slipped it into the envelope. “I … I guess I have to tell him sooner or later,” he agreed. ”Might as well be today.”

 

"Whattaya mean, ‘have to tell’ him? This is great news, he’ll be thrilled about it, right? He helped you with filling out your applications and your audition. Oh, is this about that problem you had with him worrying about you going away and drifting apart? I thought you two worked all that out."

 

Kurt stared at him. ”How did you know about that? How much do you know?”

 

"I know you were texting some guy named Chandler, and - -"

 

"What?! Who told you all this?"

 

Burt shrugged. “Finn and Rachel. Hey, you were upset and I was worried, so I asked, and they told me the whole story.”

 

"Probably a completely confused version of it. But no, that’s not what’s worrying me. Well, not exactly. Blaine, he’s not doing well, Dad. Mentally."

 

Burt looked concerned. ”What do you mean? I thought he was just in the hospital for that stomach thing. I stopped by there yesterday and he seemed fine, and he said he expects to get out soon. Now that you mention it, he seemed a little sad, but …” he paused. ”Is he … is he depressed or somethin’? Is that why he’s in the hospital?”

 

"He’s not depressed. It’s …" Kurt cast around for what to say. He really didn’t want to tell his father that his boyfriend was suffering from a delusion that he was pregnant, but he didn’t want to worry Burt with too much mystery. Burt loved Blaine like a son. "The thing is, Dad, he isn’t telling too many people what’s going on… just one friend of ours, his parents, and me… so I can’t get into details. But basically, there’s some treatment the doctors recommend, that he won’t agree to. And it’s causing some problems between us … and …" he sighed. "And I don’t know how he’s going to take the news that I’m going away in September. I think I’ll keep this to myself for now."

 

"Puttin’ it off won’t make the news any different."

 

Kurt shook his head. “There’s some test results coming in the next day or two that might convince Blaine to … well, have some surgery that’s been recommended. I’ll tell him after he recovers from the surgery … I don’t want to upset him any more than he already is right now. Until then, can we keep this between us? You know Finn and Rachel can’t keep quiet about anything, and they go and visit him almost every day.”

 

Burt looked disappointed. ”Okay, but I still don’t get why you’re keeping this from him.”

 

"Because I love him, and he needs to focus on his medical issues right now. Once that’s settled, everything will be back to normal and we can start planning the future."


	8. It's a ....

Kurt held Blaine’s hand in a firm grip, as they made their way down the hospital hallway with Blaine’s parents, toward Dr. Washington’s office. They had an appointment to see him and the specialist, Dr. Shelley, with the results of Blaine’s amniocentesis and the special 3D ultrasound Blaine had this morning. Blaine seemed unconcerned, eager even. He whispered to Kurt, “We’ll find out if it’s a boy or a girl today!”

 

Kurt nodded, his heart heavy. He knew that Blaine had his heart set on the idea of them having made a miracle baby together, and this meeting would be the nail in the coffin of Blaine’s bizarre fantasy. This specialist would dash all of Blaine’s hopes. As much as he wanted Blaine to face reality, he knew that learning this wasn’t really their baby was going to devastate his boyfriend. 

 

Kurt resolved firmly not to give the slightest hint of “I told you so” in words, tone or even facial expression, when Dr. Shelley broke the news. Blaine would need his support now at the literal moment of truth, and he would provide only sympathy and understanding.

 

His face ashen and looking ten years older than he had before all this started, Hans tapped on the doorway and Dr. Shelley’s voice called out for them to come in. They filed into the office, shook hands with the doctors, and sat down, Blaine seated between his mother and Kurt and clutching their hands in his on each side. Hans nervously stood behind Blaine’s chair, and they all waited expectantly for Dr. Shelley to start the meeting.

 

Dr. Shelley was an elderly doctor, short and stocky with horn-rimmed glasses and steel-gray hair pulled back into a too-short ponytail at the nape of her neck. She smiled kindly at Blaine.

 

“Hello, Blaine. How are you feeling today, son?”

 

Blaine smiled. “Tired. I didn’t sleep much last night, since today was the big day.” Kurt stroked Blaine’s hand in his, suppressing a sigh and readying his most supportive expression, because it would be any minute now.

 

Dr. Shelley nodded. “Well, I won’t keep you in suspense.” She turned her monitor around and revealed two windows. On the left window was the recorded video of the 3D ultrasound from that morning, and Kurt swallowed hard at the sight of it. The fetus appeared uncomfortably baby-like in the 3D ultrasound, and could be plainly seen swallowing, pulling at its ear, and moving its arms and legs around inside its sac, almost as if dancing. Blaine loved to dance. Kurt felt a wave of weakness and trembling come over him. He looked quickly away from that window to the other side of the screen, where Dr. Shelley had called up an image of chromosomes lined up in rows.

 

“I’ve examined the amniocentesis report, and even took the liberty of sending the sample to two different labs,” Dr. Shelley said, pushing her glasses up on her nose. “The reports were identical in content, and unequivocal.” 

 

She gazed down briefly at two reports on her desk, shaking her head a moment, with a slight smile. She turned her eyes up over her glasses and looked into Blaine’s eyes. 

 

“Blaine … I owe you an apology. I think Dr. Washington does as well.” Dr. Washington, standing in the corner, seemed utterly shell-shocked, but managed a weak nod. “The amniocentesis, together with this high-level ultrasound, leads me to three conclusions. One. This is a healthy, completely normal fetus at fifteen weeks gestation."

 

Kurt felt as if he was in one of those dreams where you’re running as fast as you can, but somehow, can’t move; where you are screaming, but no sound can come out. Blaine nodded again and tightened his grip on Kurt's hand.

 

“Two. This fetus is absolutely not a fetus in fetu, because it is not your identical twin. We know this for a fact from the chromosomal analysis. Do you want to know the chromosomal sex?"

 

Blaine looked at Kurt, who stared back in speechless shock, his jaw slack. After a split second, Blaine turned back toward Dr. Shelley, and assented, “Yes … I was looking forward to that, actually.”

 

"The fetus has two X chromosomes. Generally that expresses as female."

 

"A little girl," Anna breathed. Blaine looked hopefully at Kurt, smiling and pleased. His face fell as Kurt remained speechless, frozen in place.

 

“Three. The fetus is also not your sibling or non-identical twin. In fact, half of her genetic material does not come from you. Because the labs didn’t know the amniotic fluid and blood sample both came from you, the labs both identified you as the baby’s father, with 99% level of confidence.”

 

Hans found his voice behind them. “But … where’d the other half of the baby’s genes come from? Who’s … who’s the mother?”

 

“Well, in a manner of speaking, Blaine is, since he’s carrying the fetus. The question is a valid one, however, as to who is the source of the remainder of the DNA found on this study.”

 

Kurt felt the eyes of both Blaine and Anna come to rest on him, and he jerked his hand free from Blaine’s as if it was burned. There was a moment of painful silence in the room, before Blaine said in a cold, calm voice, the excitement and joy gone from his eyes, “That’s not important right now, doctor. The important thing is … right now, she’s healthy. But … do you think I have a reasonable chance of carrying her to term? And, if I do - will she have a chance at being healthy?”

 

Dr. Shelley indicated the detailed ultrasound. “Right now, this fetus is completely normal in every respect. But unfortunately, I can’t make any kind of promises about your chances of carrying to term, or about whether she will continue to develop normally, because this is a literally unique situation. I just don’t know. If you choose to continue your pregnancy, you will be a trailblazer, to say the least.”

 

“A freak, you mean,” Hans said dully. Blaine’s face tightened and Anna looked disapprovingly at her husband. 

 

“Would you be willing to take me on as a patient for my pregnancy, if I go through with it?" Blaine asked finally.

 

“I’d be honored to. Take a few days to think about what you want to do … either way, I think you can be discharged now … there’s really nothing else we can do for you at this point except surgical removal of the fetus if that is your choice. If you do decide to proceed, though, I'd want to see you rather often. Twice a week. I think it’s likely I’ll admit you to my hospital in Columbus at twenty-four weeks to monitor you daily.” She hesitated. “I would ask permission to write this up for publication as a formal study … with Dr. Washington here, of course. Your name won’t be used in the study, but non-identifying pictures would be.”

 

“That’s no problem,” Blaine said, still so calm, while Kurt was feeling like his world was shattered and like nothing was making any sense.

 

“Wait a minute. You’re saying that this baby has another parent, right?” Hans said, still stuck back at that point in the conversation. “If that’s true .. then that must mean you, Kurt. And you should step up and take responsibility, too. My insurance has a huge deductible, and I have no idea if Dr. Shelly is in the network. If she's not, how is all this going to be covered? Being in the hospital for, what, three months - - surgeries - - that’s going to cost - -”

 

Anna cried out in dismay. “How can you talk about money at a time like this! You’re going to be a grandfather, didn’t you hear? I’m sure Kurt will help support his child, but for now, we need to - -”

 

“Hold up,” Kurt interrupted, breathlessly. “Am … am I being punked? Is this some really elaborate setup for a practical joke? Is Ashton Kutcher here?” 

 

None of this could be real. The amnio was supposed to prove it wasn't real. How could this be happening? How? Even Hans and Dr. Washington were convinced of this insanity now.   
“Nobody is ‘punking’ you,” Dr. Shelley said with dignity. Blaine wouldn’t even look at him anymore, but Kurt was too far into his panic attack to really concern himself with Blaine’s hurt feelings. If Blaine had any sense he’d know this was … this was a nightmare come to life. 

 

“Why are you doing this?” he said in a shrill voice, pleading with Dr. Shelley. “There must be some other explanation for why that baby has other DNA! Are you 100% sure it’s not a … a fraternal twin that maybe got sucked in there at some point?” he asked, desperate. “That has to be it! It has to! If that’s true, Blaine, then you … you don’t have to keep hosting it -- “

 

“I believe Dr. Shelley.” Blaine looked up. “She already said that's not true, she's not my sister, she's my daughter. And you know what, Kurt? I believe you’re the other father." Blaine was tense, his fingers digging into the arm of his chair.

 

"I don't understand any of this, but I know two men can't have a baby together! This can't have anything to do with me!" Kurt insisted, trying not to cry in front of Hans and the doctors. He wanted to leave and run away, or somehow wake up from this surreal nightmare. 

 

Blaine bit his lip, and nodded. "Okay. If you’re so sure you're not the father, you can prove it with a paternity test. What do you say? Will you settle this and then help me decide what we’re going to do, as parents, together? Or am I totally on my own in this?”

Blaine's face was inexpressibly sad and scared. Kurt felt his heart nearly explode with terror and confusion battling with love and concern for Blaine ... and in the farthest corner of his heart ... for the little creature he was starting to believe, in spite of himself and against every iota of sanity and logic he possessed, was … their baby.


	9. Questioning

“Must be weird being back at school after all that time in the hospital,” Kurt commented as he walked Blaine to Glee club. “I’m glad you’re back. I missed you.”

 

“Mm hm.”

 

Kurt sighed. “Blaine, please. I’m trying, okay? But it’s a lot to take in. I gave my blood sample at the lab on the way to school, didn’t I?”

 

“Because you’re trying to prove you’re not my baby’s father.” Blaine stopped at his locker, turning the combination lock while looking pointedly away. “You should just know you are, Kurt,” he said unreasonably. 

 

Kurt felt his face heat up, as a little voice inside him kept telling him just that, kept wanting to believe it, kept whispering little girl names and suggesting what a baby of his and Blaine’s would look like.

 

Blaine continued, “You shouldn’t even have to have proof. But if you need it, you need it. Once the test comes back, you and I can discuss this whole thing rationally and decide together what we should do. You’re only delaying the inevitable because you don’t want to accept the truth.” He opened his locker and extracted a folder, flipping it open and glancing over it. 

 

“I think you’re the one being unreasonable,” Kurt insisted, ignoring the strangely paternal voice inside him. “I mean really. How can I have knocked you up just by holding your hand and a statue at the same time?”

 

“We’ve been over this,” Blaine groaned. He slammed the door. “The icons, Kurt. The lightning that no one else saw.”

 

“Except Quinn,” Kurt pointed out, gesturing down the hall where Quinn, perfect and pristine and pretty in her tiny cheerleading outfit, was leaning against a locker talking to Santana and Brittany. “You might as well say she’s the father, she was there too, right?”

 

Blaine’s face went ashen, and Kurt bit his lip. “Blaine, I’m … I’m not trying to make light of your feelings, I’m just - -”

 

“You’re right. She … she might be the mother. She was there. She felt the lightning.” Blaine looked completely crushed. “Oh, Kurt! If … if she’s the other parent, I don’t know what I’ll do! That changes everything,” he wailed. “This was supposed to be something of ours.”

 

“She’s not the father, Blaine, I was just making a point - - “

 

Blaine was already halfway down the hallway, determinedly approaching Quinn. “Wait,” Kurt called frantically, but Blaine was politely tapping Quinn on the arm and the two of them were walking into a small side hallway to chat. Kurt hurried over.

 

“ - - so, will you go to the lab and take the test too?” Blaine was finishing. Quinn flickered a quizzical glance over at Kurt.

 

“Quinn, just … just ignore him, okay? Of course nobody thinks you’re the baby’s … father. There’s no such thing as spontaneous conception without … er … sex.”

 

Quinn smiled softly. “Well, there is,” she murmured, pulling at her cross on a chain around her neck. “My church calls it the Virgin Birth … But it was a pretty big deal. It was two thousand years ago and people are still talking about it.”

 

“This baby isn’t Jesus and God isn’t its father,” Kurt said. “I still say there’s some scientific explanation that we haven’t hit on yet. The DNA test I’m taking should help solve the puzzle for Blaine.”

 

Blaine shook his head. “Maybe, but if Quinn is the mother, then that’s also proof it was Ariadne’s power that made the baby, and … maybe, it’s kind of like Quinn donated an egg somehow. But it’s still kind of ours, I guess, since we were holding hands and that’s how I got the shock. You’d still be part of it, in a way,” Blaine said, desperately grasping at straws now. He started weeping softly, his face exhausted. “Please just have the test, Quinn, so I can know. I promise I won’t ask anything from you if … if it’s you. I just have to know what’s happening to me.”

 

Quinn’s eyes softened, and she reached to hug Blaine tightly, rubbing his back and shushing him gently. “Okay, Blaine. I’ll go to the hospital lab and have the test after school, I promise.” She let him go and leaned back, wiping the tears from his tired eyes with a kleenex. “Take it easy, okay? I promise it will be okay.” 

 

Blaine nodded, “Thank you, Quinn. I… I think I want to go to the bathroom … I’ll meet you at glee club.” Kurt reached out and stopped him, softly kissing him on the cheek. Blaine smiled a little wetly and continued on his way.

 

As Blaine moved out of earshot, Kurt murmured to Quinn, “He usually doesn’t cry much - - not like yours truly, the human faucet. He’s just going through a lot. It’s going to be hard on him when the test shows I’m not related to the baby, but you see how he lit on that idea of you being a mystical egg donor to get around it. It’s just as well if you can take the blood test and cut that off at the pass.”

 

“Well, if taking the DNA test can help somehow, I’ll be glad to do it.” 

 

Kurt was about to answer when a shout rang out from down the hall.

 

“Hey faggot!” Azimio Adams was catcalling Blaine. “What’re you crying about, you fucking fat homo!” He and the football team were surrounding Blaine, towering over him. Blaine stubbornly refused to answer and tried to brush past Azimio. Kurt felt the world slow down to a standstill when Azimio reached out and shoved Blaine, hard, and his beautiful boyfriend crashed sideways into a locker and slipped to one knee, instinctively turning and clutching his belly protectively. Kurt’s vision blurred suddenly with fury.

 

Somehow his books were falling to the ground and he was racing across the hallway, shoving past onlookers and landing a lucky punch across Azimio’s face, then another, then another, in a rain of blows, his rage urging him on. Nobody touched Blaine, especially not … not when he couldn’t defend himself. Nobody. He screamed it at Azimio’s bloodied face. “You touch him again, any of you - - and I end you!”

 

He gasped for breath, and realized Blaine was looking up, his jaw dropped, and the football players were taken aback - - but only briefly. He could hear Quinn screaming for Coach Sylvester as they advanced, and quickly positioned himself in front of Blaine to shield him. 

 

Thankfully, Sue and Beiste were there in time, shoving the bullies aside and dispersing the crowd.

“Okay, Superman,” Sue remarked. “Take Lois Lane here and get to glee club, if that’s where you’re going.” 

 

Kurt helped Blaine to his feet, and helped gather his books. “Are you up to Glee today?” he whispered, pulling him close suddenly. “I - -I’m so tired,” he admitted, feeling exhaustion setting in after the adrenaline rush faded. He felt trembly and light-headed now, and Blaine looked at him, worried.

 

“Here, drink this,” Blaine urged, pulling a juice box from his messenger bag.

 

“I don’t need it,” Kurt protested weakly, but soon he let Blaine sit him down on a nearby step and hand him the box.

 

“You were so brave,” Blaine murmured, stroking Kurt’s back. “It was so hot.”

 

Kurt rolled his eyes, and continued to suck on the ridiculous tiny straw, the juice and the loving attention making him feel better already.

 

“Let’s blow off Glee and go home to my place,” Blaine purred, slipping his arms around Kurt and mouthing at his neck, making Kurt’s toes curl pleasantly. “I think we should both … lie down. And then I can blow something else to say thanks, my big strong hero. You saved me and our little girl.” Blaine rubbed his little swollen belly, and gazed up at Kurt, who couldn’t resist that adoring look. After glancing around he leaned in for an open-mouthed, deep kiss, before jumping up and pulling Blaine by the hand to run out the door and his car to drive home as soon as their cars could take them.


	10. Paternity

Today was the big day. The day the test results were expected to be back in Dr. Washington’s office, and Kurt and Quinn were going to meet Blaine and his parents there at 9:00 sharp to hear from Dr. Shelley that Blaine’s fetus was not related to either of them, and hopefully, that would convince Blaine that this wasn’t a magical love-baby. Because Blaine needed to move on with his life, the sooner the better. It was almost prom time and graduation time, and this craziness was ruining what was supposed to be a magical senior year in a very different sense.

 

He looked in the full length mirror and sighed again. He’d tried on seven outfits, and this was a last resort, the biggest pair of pants he could find in his closet. And the pants were so tight, his big fat gut was sticking out over the top. He couldn’t go out in this outfit either. He released the straining top button and breathed a sigh of relief. Sliding them down, he threw them in the corner and went to his dresser. The new pants he’d bought last week in a larger size were in the laundry, so that basically left sweatpants. Sweatpants, outside the house and not in gym. He grimaced and pulled on a pair, then switched his Marc Jacobs shirt to a sweatshirt, adding some sneakers and surveying himself grimly. He was officially a fat slob. 

 

It was 8:45. Just enough time to make it to the hospital, if he left right now, as he well knew from all the times he’d visited poor Blaine there in the last month. He’d better hurry or he’d be late. He certainly didn’t want to delay the truth coming out. Of course he wanted the fantasy to come to an end. That way he and Blaine could focus on teenage gay boy stuff, on getting back into shape together with lots of time at the gym watching Blaine work the punching bag while he did crunches nearby. Lots of sex, and maybe going out dancing. That was what teenage gay boys did, not sit around reading Pregnancy Magazine.

 

8:46. He ran a hand through his hair, which along with his skin was looking mighty good lately, at least. It was time to leave, and get this over with. He looked down at the picture of the 3D sonogram Blaine had given him last night when he’d come to visit. There was a strange, aching twinge in his chest at the sight. He looked back at the clock.

 

8:47. Time to go. 

 

There was a tap on the door, and after shoving the sonogram picture in a drawer hurriedly, he opened the door to see his dad standing in the hallway with a folder in his hands.

 

“Hey, Kurt, glad you’re up. You’ve been sleepin’ in on the weekends a lot lately and runnin’ around with Blaine so much, I hardly have had a chance to talk to you,” Burt said. “I’ve got some stuff we need to go over.”

 

Kurt glanced at the bedside clock. 8:48. “I really can’t, Dad. I’m on my way to meet Blaine.”

 

“Blaine can wait,” Burt said sternly. “Your NYADA acceptance form and the applications for financial aid are supposed to go in the mail by next week, remember?” He held out the form. “I filled out the application for you, wrote the check for your deposit, and you have to sign the acceptance form and then take it to the post office.”

 

Kurt looked at the forms in Burt’s hands. He thought of Blaine, convinced he was having Kurt’s baby, due at the end of December. Blaine, alone here in Ohio, in his last trimester of pregnancy, at McKinley High School with the homophobic football team. Then being put on bed rest for the last months of his pregnancy, still all alone and scared.

 

“I don’t know if I’m going to NYADA.”

 

Burt stared at him. “Pardon my French, kiddo, but what the hell are you talking about? You were so into this school you refused to even apply anyplace else. You been ranting and raving about this school ever since Emma told you and Rachel about it. What’s changed?”

 

“I … I don’t know if I can leave Blaine right now.”

 

Burt took off his cap and turned around for a moment, breathing heavily. After a minute, he turned around and surveyed Kurt intently. His voice was tight and controlled when he finally spoke. “I know you love Blaine, kiddo, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing we’re talking about, gettin’ into this school. If you turn them down, you won’t get a second shot. No high school relationship is worth giving up your dream, Kurt.”

 

“It’s not what you think - - it’s not just being some lovesick idiot, Dad. Blaine really needs me right now,” Kurt pleaded. “I can’t explain it more than that right now, but … just wait to send in the money, okay? I don’t want you to lose your deposit if I decide I’m not going.” He glanced at the clock, despairing. He was going to be so late. “I really have to go,” he begged, grabbing his keys and wallet.

 

“This conversation isn’t over, Kurt,” Burt called as Kurt hurried down the hallway. “We’re talking about your future here.” Kurt paused at the top of the stairs, but then kept going.

 

~ * ~

 

Traffic was slow for a Saturday morning. Kurt hit every red light and got stuck behind a funeral procession; and he arrived at the hospital fifteen minutes late. He parked the car and sprinted through the parking lot, then skidded into the lobby at a full run. He signed in quickly at the front desk, and snatched the visitor’s pass. Reaching the elevator, he pushed the button for the obstetrics floor and waited impatiently, watching the numbers light up in turn as the elevator descended.

 

The door to the elevator finally pinged open, and Quinn stood in his path. 

 

“Better late than never,” she sniped. “The appointment’s over. Nice boyfriending.”

 

“Over - - what - - what did Dr. Shelley say?”

 

Quinn looked him up and down coolly. “Well, it was quite the surprise.” She started toward the door to the hospital, and Kurt followed her, frantic.

 

“What did the doctor say, Quinn? How did Blaine take it?”

 

“Not well. Turns out - - “ she paused and pivoted dramatically, her blonde hair swirling around her. “I’m the father.”

 

The air felt thick and syrupy around him, his mouth wouldn’t work right, and he couldn’t quite catch his breath. “You - - you’re - -”

 

“Yep. And Blaine decided you won’t want to be with him if the baby isn’t yours, so he’s agreed to the surgery. You should be thrilled. Go on up and see him, but try to contain your excitement, okay? He’s pretty devastated.”

 

“It’s not my baby?” Kurt finally quavered. The tears started rising up in his throat. “There won’t be a baby at all?” He choked on a sob, backing away. He couldn’t stop shaking. Why couldn’t he stop shaking? 

 

“I need to see Blaine!” he cried. Then sadness and disappointment overwhelmed him completely. He hid his face in his hands and started sobbing in earnest. He needed to see Blaine and they needed to hold each other - - Blaine must be devastated, because … because Kurt was. 

 

He thought of the blurry sonogram at the house. He remembered the little fluttering movement that he’d felt with his hand pressed against Blaine’s belly just last night after they’d made love, just barely perceptible, but … how happy Blaine’s face was when Kurt smiled and said he felt it. He’d felt a flutter of happiness in his own heart, though he hadn’t admitted it then. 

 

He had to get to Blaine, before he did anything rash. Blaine had wanted the baby … he couldn’t let Blaine have an abortion just because he was afraid he’d lose Kurt if he kept the baby. He had to let Blaine know he’d love him and the baby just the same as if … as if the baby had been both of theirs. He felt sick with disappointment that it wasn’t so, and dimly registered his own surprise that he felt that way. But he started blindly toward the elevator to get to Blaine and let him know … he didn’t have to give up their baby if he didn’t want to. Blaine had been right - - it was their baby, no matter whose genes she carried. ”I have to go,” he said, drying his tears. ”I … I’m sorry it isn’t mine. I - - I wish it was - - but he needs to know I’ll stand by him no matter what.”

 

“Hold up,” Quinn said. He looked back through a veil of tears at her standing there with one hand on her hip and two sheets of paper in her hand.

 

“Just kidding. You’re the father,” she said smugly. “Guess now you know how you really feel about the baby, though. Saw that on Friends once and couldn’t resist trying it.” She handed Kurt the papers and grinned, “Get up there and see your man, Dad.”


	11. Responsibility

Kurt got off the elevator on the obstetric floor, unsteady and overwhelmed by the whirlwind of emotions Quinn’s head game had just wreaked on him. He leaned against the wall to catch his breath before seeing Blaine. As he tried to compose himself, he looked over the two sheets of paper, focusing on his lab report including his name and the date of his test, a lot of gobbledygook medical terms, and the conclusion, that he was the father of Blaine’s baby. He was going to have a biological child with someone he loved, something he’d never believed would ever be possible. The three of them would be the first family of this kind, ever, in history… two cis gendered, same sex parents producing their own genetic offspring. The press would have a field day with this if it leaked out. And the politics of it, the controversy it would stir up, legal, religious, social….was unfathomable. No doubt, some of that would blow back against their daughter too.

 

Even setting all that aside, though … Kurt loved Blaine, and he knew they would be good, loving parents and married partners … some day. In about ten years. This was being thrust upon them at the least convenient time imaginable. Blaine was still only 17 and had a year to go in high school; and Kurt had just been accepted to the school of his dreams hundreds of miles away in New York City. Tuition, room and board at NYADA would be expensive, and he’d planned on getting a job to cover costs as it was. How could he contribute any financial support to their baby? Worse … how could he be there for Blaine and the baby while working full time, going to school full time, and living so far away? 

 

Kurt looked out the window across the hall at the hospital parking lot and at the dingy strip mall across the street. He knew the answer to his own question. He’d known it deep down a long time, even while fighting the truth in his own mind. He could be the King of Denial at times, but there was no running away from this.

 

 

He knew that he would have to do the practical thing, the right thing.The thing his father would do in his place. After high school graduation, Kurt Hummel wouldn’t head off to the bright lights of New York after all. He’d get a job in Lima, enroll in community college, and stay in Ohio. Once Blaine had the baby and recovered, and finished high school, maybe … maybe they could move to New York with their little girl and go to college, maybe try to make it in the business, but it would be a struggle financially and in every other way with a child to raise at the same time. He sighed, saying goodbye silently to his dreams of drama school in New York, of rooming the first year with Rachel and Finn, of living the carefree life of a college student. He was going to be a father, and that came first.

 

 

“Hey,” Blaine’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts. Kurt looked up and into his first and one true love’s eyes. “You look like you got the news. I … guess you’re still not feeling all this …? Us having a baby together? Kurt, I - -”

 

 

“I love you,” Kurt whispered. He pulled Blaine to him, squeezing him close for a long moment, feeling Blaine’s breathing and calming down. “I love you. And we have parents who’ll help us, I know, once … once I tell my dad and we get him to understand. We’ll make it work.” He leaned back and took Blaine’s face in his hands. “Do you want to have this baby? Because … if you do, I’ll be there. One hundred percent,” he stressed, gazing at him intently. “I’ll get a job in Lima to help with the medical bills, and - -”

 

 

“Hey,” Blaine soothed him, stroking his arms. “Don’t worry about the medical bills, that’s all going to be taken care of, at least my prenatal and recovery, and the baby’s newborn admission. Dr. Shelley says she has a grant from her hospital to cover that stuff, as long as I let her write a book about me and the baby or something. We won’t have expenses really until after the baby comes home.” Blaine was talking in a rush, excited now that Kurt was on board. 

 

“Speaking of that. She says we’ll probably want to schedule a c-section for December 15 or so, it’ll be filmed and a lot of doctors are going to come and observe. My first starring role on film,” Blaine joked, and Kurt smiled in spite of his worries. “I looked up NYADA’s schedule on line and they have an early winter break, so the students and professors can be in holiday shows. So you can come home and see her be born then without missing too much school - -”

 

Kurt shook his head. Blaine didn’t understand … he had to be here. He had to be with Blaine and then with their baby, he couldn’t leave them behind for other people to look after. He hadn’t asked for any of this, neither of them had, but just the same his responsibility was clear. He swallowed hard. “That - that won’t matter about NYADA’s break. I didn’t want to upset you so I didn’t tell you. I didn’t get into NYADA,” he lied. 

 

Blaine’s jaw dropped. “Kurt - how could that happen! You were so amazing at your audition! I was sure you’d get in … weren’t you at least wait listed?”

 

Kurt picked at Blaine’s collar nervously. It was so hard to lie to Blaine, but …“No. But it’s just as well under the circumstances, don’t you think? Now I’ll be able to be here with you and our baby girl,” he said. His voice sounded too high, and Blaine began to say something else, but Kurt surged forward and kissed his open mouth fiercely, cutting off any more questions for the moment.

 

~ * ~ * ~

 

Kurt drove home on auto-pilot, dully taking in what passed for the Lima sights. The businesses that he had to choose from as potential employers, on top of the job he’d already landed at the Lima Bean for the summer. He was tired just thinking about it, but even with the medical bills handled for the time being, there would be bills and expenses to think about and the sooner he got to work at a second job and started saving money, the better. But ugh. The Lima Bean was the only place he really could tolerate working, he thought, looking at the choices as he drove past. HMO claims processing centers. The DMV. The rendering plant. Mattress Land. Sheets-N-Things. The Midwest’s Largest Free-Standing Ball of Twine. Rinky Dinks, the Lima Bean and Breadstix. Between the Sheets Music. The Lima Mall. He pulled up outside Hummel Lube & Tire, and pulled the key from the ignition. 

 

He sat and stared at his Dad’s shop. The most likely candidate, except that he’d allowed Finn to worm his way into his Dad’s good graces and become the heir apparent. When he’d been Broadway bound, he hadn’t really cared who was next in line to run the tire shop, but now … it was either work for Dad, or at one of the many depressing, pedestrian businesses in this pathetic cow town.

 

Well, just because they were stuck here another year while Blaine finished high school, didn’t mean they’d have to stay forever. He’d get some credits at Allen County Community College, and then … their baby would be six or seven months old when Blaine finished high school and they could regroup and find a college together, share expenses … they’d make it work. They had to. It was slow suicide for them to stay here permanently, but one step at a time.

 

He clambered out of the car, awkwardly, brushing his unwieldy stomach against the steering wheel on the way out. Jesus, this extra weight was getting out of hand. He rubbed his belly, and stretched his back, then started in to the garage. Finn was there in his extra-tall coveralls, with his name proudly embroidered on the chest. Kurt hated coveralls and only tolerated them as a necessary evil to save his clothes when forced to work in the shop for extra pocket money. Meanwhile, Finn had nearly wept with pride when Burt had presented him with those personalized coveralls.

 

“Hi, Finn. Working another shift? Weren’t you here last night?”

 

Finn grinned good-naturedly. “Yeah, but now that Rachel and I are engaged, and I’m planning on going to school in New York, gotta save all my money. I still can’t believe I got into Pace, and I’m gonna be going to the Inside the Actors Studio guy’s school!”

 

Kurt couldn’t believe it either. Finn would be studying acting in New York, and he would be lubing cars for rednecks back here in Ohio. He managed a thin smile. Finn wiped his hands on a rag and asked, gently, “So … any word from NYADA yet?”

 

Kurt looked down, and decided here was where his acting training would have to begin, not at the Actors Studio Drama School like Finn, or NYADA like Rachel. He looked up sadly. “Yeah .. I didn’t get in. I’ll be sticking around here for a while, I guess.”

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father approaching from the office.

 

“Aw, man, that sucks a hot one … you just got the letter?” Finn said, all sympathy. 

 

“Uh, yeah,” Kurt said.

 

“Rachel’s gonna have a cow about it … she was all set for the three of us to conquer Manhattan together.”

 

“Yeah, well, Rachel will have to get over it, I guess,” Kurt said irritably.

 

“Kurt. My office. Now, kiddo,” his father barked, in a tone that would not permit any arguing. He meekly followed Burt into the office in the back.

 

“What’s all that crap about you not getting into NYADA? Why did you tell Finn that?”

 

“Because … I’m not going. I’m staying here with Blaine, dad. And I’d rather not have Blaine know I’m giving up NYADA, okay?”

 

Burt pressed his thumbs into his eyes. “Kurt, I need you to explain this to me very carefully and clearly.”

 

“The thing is, Dad, I need to have a serious discussion with you about something, and right now. It involves Blaine … and the whole family, in a way. Especially you. I’ve made up my mind I’m not going away to college, but I’ll be needing a job … and you’ll need someone when Finn goes to Pace, right?”

 

“Kurt, you can always work at the garage, that’s not the point. The point is that sure, you’re a better mechanic than Finn, but you hate it. You don’t belong here or in Ohio, Kurt, and I just don’t get why you’re throwing away this chance.”

 

“Do you trust me, Dad? To do the right thing, for the right reasons?”

 

“Of course, but you won’t explain what’s going on that would make you give up an opportunity like this to stay in Lima with Blaine. I don’t approve, Kurt, I think you’re being foolish. Unless there’s something you’re not telling me, that is.”

 

Kurt looked down at his feet. “There is,” he said finally. “You’ll understand when Blaine and I sit you down and tell you everything. He’s asked his parents to have us over, you, me, Carol, and Finn and Rachel, to have a family discussion about what’s going to happen.”

 

“So the Andersons get a vote in whether you go to college or not?” Burt said, frustrated. “Kurt, this doesn’t make any sense, and I demand to know what the hell is going on.”

 

“I can’t tell you right now, but I promise I’ll tell you, with Blaine, at Sunday dinner at the Andersons’. But just don’t tell him I got into NYADA, please, it’s really important that he doesn’t know, so please promise me you’ll keep that to yourself?”

 

Burt stared, eyes narrowed, at Kurt for so long that Kurt started sweating. “Please, Dad. It’s my business and I don’t want him to know. You’ll understand when you hear the whole story, okay? Mrs. Anderson said to ask you all for Sunday dinner tomorrow.”

 

“Fine … But fair warning, Kurt. If I don’t hear some pretty convincing reasons, I’m not promising to keep my mouth shut.”

 

“You’ll understand when you hear the whole thing, Dad. You’ll … you’ll be proud of me, I think.”

 

“I’m always proud of you, Kurt, you know that. And I can tell something big’s up with Blaine, I get that much. But sometimes you go overboard with protecting people you love, and sacrifice too much. Like when you threw that singing contest with Rachel to protect me. Please don’t do that with your college plans, your future, because you’re tryin’ to help Blaine somehow.”

 

Kurt flushed. He’d denied Blaine’s baby was his for weeks, and left Blaine feeling alone in all this too long. He couldn’t let him, or the baby, down by leaving them. He swallowed and whispered, “Dad, you taught me that being a good man sometimes means just that. You’ll see tomorrow I learned what you taught me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review if you like the story and want to see what happens! Either way, thank you for reading!


	12. Hitting the Fan

Kurt knocked on Blaine’s door and waited nervously, adjusting the cuffs and lapels on his best suit and fidgeting from foot to foot, a bouquet of roses stuck under his arm. Hans opened the door and looked sourly at him. “You’re early, Kurt. Mrs. Anderson said 6 o’clock and it’s only 5:45.”

 

“Um, well, yes. I’m a little fashionably early, sir, but I was hoping to talk to Blaine for a few minutes before my family got here.” He smiled brightly at Hans, who stared back with narrowed eyes.

 

“BLAINE!” Hans bellowed, startling Kurt. “Kurt’s down here looking for you.”

 

“Thank you, sir,” Kurt whispered. “Here are some flowers for Mrs. Anderson, sir,” he said, handing them over. He smiled around Hans and waved at Blaine, who was coming down the stairs behind Hans.

 

“Yeah. Thanks. That sure is considerate of you,” Hans said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

 

Kurt frowned, but remembered this was hard on everybody. Hans would come around. Or not, but he needed to stay on his good side as much as possible. Blaine reached the bottom of the stairs, looking handsome as ever in a freshly tailored dark suit and tie. “Hi, Blaine … are you up for a little walk in the yard before my folks get here?”

 

“Sure,” Blaine said eagerly, reaching for Kurt’s hand. They went out the door past a stormy-looking Hans and out onto the front path. Hans shoved the door shut behind them with a slam, and Blaine looked sheepishly at Kurt with a shrug. Kurt smiled tightly and led Blaine down the steps.

The Andersons had a beautiful home, with neatly landscaped grounds and tall arbor vitae separating the driveway from the flower garden. Kurt drew Blaine over to a stone bench near the tall hedge, and gestured for him to sit down. 

 

Blaine sat down obediently and smiled. “So what do you need to tell me out here? Some last minute strategy? An escape plan? I know my dad is acting like a total douchebag … I’m sorry about that.”

 

“I think it’s customary behavior toward ravenous boyfriends who knock up a man’s teenage child.”

 

“Aw, jeeze,” Blaine laughed. “You’re quite the stud. Getting a man pregnant, you must be really virile.”

 

“The virilest,” Kurt agreed. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. I … I wanted to ask you to take a trip with me this fall.”

 

Blaine raised an eyebrow. “Well, I don’t know how long I’ll be allowed to travel, but … where do you want to go?”

 

“Not far. Just Indiana.”

“Um … what’s in Indiana that’s so exciting?”  
“Marriage equality and step-parent same-sex adoption, actually,” Kurt said, taking Blaine’s hand. He slid off the bench, with some difficulty, and knelt at Blaine’s feet, taking Blaine’s hand and pressing it to his own heart, and slipped a box out of his pocket. Blaine gasped and his eyes filled with sparkling tears.

“I love you so much … and I want us to get married, so I can be a legal father to your baby - our baby - once it’s born. Look, I admit we're young, and I probably wouldn't be thinking about marriage just yet if ... well, if it wasn't for the pregnancy. I want to be on the baby's birth certificate, and be recognized as her father legally. Going to Indiana or another progressive state, well, that's the only way I know of to make that happen. The main thing, though, is there's no reason to wait. We're soulmates, we're going to raise a baby together ...and I want to be your husband and the father of your baby, legally, and - - so, well, Blaine Anderson ... will you marry me?"

“What the ever-living fucking fresh hell are you talking about!!” Burt’s voice roared from behind the arbor vitae, where the Andersons’ driveway was located and where Kurt realized his father must have parked the car. Kurt froze in horror as Burt erupted from between two arbor vitae, his face nearly purple, still holding a large cake carrier with Carol’s contribution to the dinner inside. Leaves and twigs were sticking to his clothes, and Carol, Finn and Rachel staggered through the hedge behind Burt, looking completely confused and shocked.

“Burt, your language,” Carol pleaded, but Burt shot her an incredulous look, and handed the cake to her before turning and storming toward Blaine and Kurt. Kurt leapt to his feet..

“Dad - let me explain -”

“I heard everything,” Burt said heatedly “I don’t know what kind of goddam hypnosis you’ve worked on my son to make him give up his chance at college to marry you and adopt your kid with some girl you knocked up, Anderson, but I’m here to tell you it ain’t happening!” Blaine and Kurt sat frozen and open mouthed, as Finn and Rachel tried to hold an enraged Burt back and calm him down.

“What? Dad, no - that’s not -” Kurt tried to explain, but Burt wasn’t hearing it, and shook Finn and Rachel loose, and approached a confused Blaine, towering over him. And then everyone started talking at once, dizzying Kurt completely.

"Give up college? What's your dad talking about? You said you didn’t get into NYADA --” Blaine demanded.

“Hold up - Blaine - you got some girl pregnant, dude? You’re bi after all - -” Finn exclaimed, then stopped suddenly, his face going pale. “Rachel - - is it - - is it you? You’re the only girl I know of that Blaine ever dated - -”

“That was a year ago, Finn, and we didn’t have ... erm … carnal knowledge,” she reminded him, face reddening. She turned on Kurt, angrily, “But Kurt, what’s this about NYADA? Did you get in or not - - Finn said you didn’t, but Burt says you did, so are we going to be roomies this fall or - - ”

“Let’s all try to stay calm,” Carol said desperately over the din, stamping her foot for attention, the motion sending the cake sliding from the carrier and landing at her feet with a splat.

"Get in the car, Kurt! We're getting out of here before you do anything stupid!" Burt ordered.

“Dad!” Kurt finally shouted. “Blaine didn’t get anybody pregnant. I got him pregnant!” 

That silenced everyone effectively, and Kurt sighed. “And I have a lot of explaining to do … to all of you. But let’s go inside and talk about this. And Finn, Rachel - - rule number one is, you tell no one about this, got it?”

 

They nodded numbly, and after they all helped Carol scrape the remains of the cake off the lawn and into the carrier, they filed inside. Kurt braced himself. It was going to be a bumpy night.


	13. Intimations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning - Brief sexytimes with plot relevance in this chapter!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning - sexual content in this chapter

The group moved to the Andersons’ living room. Where Hans’ influence was most visible outside in the elaborately groomed landscaping, this was Anna’s domain. And that meant ceiling-to-floor bookcases double-stacked with books and ancient Greek artifacts, with a huge framed reprint of a first-century B.C. painting of Zeus hurling a lightning bolt centered over the fireplace, and the companion piece of a giant about to be struck displayed over the couch. Hans’ Barcalounger was placed to the left of the fireplace. He was enthroned on it drinking a glass of scotch, and looking as if he’d like to take a lightning bolt to someone. Kurt nervously sat down next to Blaine on the couch. The others found seats around a low, carved marble table where Anna fluttered around setting out appetizers and a pitcher of lemonade. 

Kurt glanced to his left. Blaine was looking pointedly away from him, his arms crossed over his chest and wearing a closed-off expression. Kurt cleared his throat and nudged his boyfriend, but Blaine was silent and his lips were pressed tight together. Kurt had seen that look enough to know he was in for a rare, and particularly ill-timed, tantrum from his boyfriend. He sighed and started the meeting on his own.

“Okay, well, Blaine and I asked you here to tell you … Blaine is pregnant, and yes, I’m the father. I took a paternity test and it proved it.”

“How? How did this happen?” Burt asked, sitting on the Andersons' tufted loveseat and looking utterly bewildered. Dazed, he accepted a heaping platter of food Anna handed him but transferred it to the table without looking at it. “Is this one of those … those transsexual deals? Is … is Blaine a man trapped in a woman’s body or something?”

Hans barked, “My son is male!” His face was reddened and his fingers were clenched around his drink tightly. “Or he was, until your son got him cursed!”

“That wasn’t my fault!” Kurt protested. “I certainly didn’t put those icons out where innocent kids could touch them and get cursed!! Anna did that!”

Anna looked hurt. “I didn’t know they had any special power, Kurt … now that I do, I put a velvet rope around them at the museum to prevent any more … accidents.” She set out a tray of glasses and started pouring lemonade.

“Cursed? … what are all of you talking about? What’s happening?” Burt pleaded. Carol put a hand on his arm soothingly. 

Kurt tried to explain. “Blaine is a man, but …”. How to explain this without sounding insane? “... but he has a ‘pseudo-uterus’ and there is a normal, healthy baby girl in it, who is my daughter and Blaine’s.” 

From the corner of his eye, he saw an interested Finn start to form a question and he cut it off before he could finish. “Let’s leave it at that, okay? The … the technical details of how it happened aren’t important,” Kurt said, slapping Blaine’s leg lightly again for help. Blaine’s eyebrows were so low over his eyes they were a dark, thick horizontal line. Kurt knew he’d get no help until they resumed their usual triangularity, so he turned to Anna for more support.

Anna rummaged through a cluttered desk in the corner and pulled out the folder with all of Blaine’s sonograms and test results in it. “There’s all the medical records, Burt. I know it’s a lot to take in, but … congratulations! We’re going to be grandparents!” She handed Burt the folder, and he stared at it blankly until Carol took it and started reviewing it. 

“Grandparents,” Burt said weakly. 

“And in-laws,” Finn offered, through a mouthful of lumpia from the platter he’d taken from the table and placed on his own lap. “Since Kurt proposed just now. What’s your answer, bro?”

Hans exploded. “Proposed? My son is seventeen!” he shouted. “He’s too young to get married!”

“Actually, he can get married at 17 in Indiana if … if both parents consent,” Kurt mumbled.

“Well, I don’t consent! I want what’s best for him, which is to go to college in a year. And I don’t want him tied down by marriage at seventeen!”

“I haven’t said yes! And I’m not sure I should!” Blaine cut in, his eyes red and teary. At Kurt’s astonished and offended look, Blaine continued, his voice trembling, “You lied to me about NYADA, Kurt! Is that how you want to start a marriage? With lies?”

Kurt saw red. “I’m trying to do the right thing and keep you from feeling bad that I have to give up the biggest chance of my life -- to stand by you! How is that a bad thing?”

“Because you made a decision that affects all three of us, not just you, without consulting me at all! And who asked you to give up ‘the biggest chance of your life’, anyway?” Blaine stood up angrily. “You know what? I don’t want to hear about how you sacrificed so much for me for the next sixty years! Save the martyr routine and go to fucking college, since it’s obvious you want to!” He stormed out of the room. 

Kurt threw a glance over his shoulder at his family, then chased Blaine up the stairs, reaching the open door to Blaine’s room as Blaine flung himself face down on the bed. Kurt stood in the doorway, shaking with irritation. “So you’re saying I should go away and leave all this on you? Really?” Kurt challenged.

Blaine didn’t bother to roll his face out of the pillow. “Yes. We need to think long-term,” Blaine said dully. “If you turn down Carmen Tibideaux, you won’t get another shot at NYADA, you know that. NYADA is the best school in the country for musical theatre. You can’t pass up a chance to go there. I can manage on my own until I can come to New York with the baby.”

Kurt sighed and came into the room, climbing up on the bed and lying down next to Blaine. “Now who’s being a martyr? This is happening to both of us, not just you, Blaine, and I want to help, I want to be here, I didn’t mean it when I said that about giving up the biggest chance of my life. If I go, then I’m giving up the biggest chance of my life.” He curled around Blaine and stroked his back. “I’m doing this for me too, honey. Really.”

Blaine still wouldn’t look up. “I’m too tired to talk and I think you should go downstairs and leave me alone. I have a bad headache.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t shut me out,” Kurt begged. 

Blaine rolled over and looked at him sadly. “Isn’t that what you did to me? Shut me out? Decide what was best for me and the baby, without even asking me what I thought about it?” 

Kurt reached over and squeezed Blaine’s hand. “I felt bad that I didn’t believe about the baby right away and … I thought I was making up for it by being a big hero, I guess,” he admitted. 

“I don’t need saving or protecting, Kurt.”

“What about our baby, though?” Kurt asked, his throat constricting.

Blaine sighed, “She needs you. But I don’t think that has to mean giving up on your dreams and future. Look ... I’m not … I’m not telling you what to do … but can we make the decision together? Just us two, talking?”

“Okay,” Kurt said finally. “We’ll talk about it.”

“And you’ll send in your acceptance letter in the meantime?” Blaine prompted. “That way you’ll have that choice. Kurt, don’t forget …” he choked. “We don’t know what’s going to happen. Not really. We don’t know if I can really carry this baby through the summer, even. I don’t want you cutting off options, okay?”

Kurt reached up and wiped the tears that were slipping from Blaine’s eyes now. “If that’s what you want me to do, I’ll send it in, but I don’t know if I can go through with leaving you at a time like this.” 

“Okay,” Blaine said. “We don’t have to decide all at once about what to do.” He winced and rubbed his head.

“Head still hurts?” Kurt asked. At Blaine’s weary nod, he suggested, “Let’s just rest a minute before we go back down to World War III down there.”

They were quiet for a few moments, Kurt holding Blaine and rubbing his neck to help relieve his tension, and he almost dozed off himself, when Blaine cleared his throat and tugged on his sleeve.

“Kurt … about the question you asked me before, when we were outside?” Blaine toyed with Kurt’s shirt button, shy suddenly. “You know I’m madly in love with you, and I see you whenever I think of my future, right?”

Kurt nodded, searching Blaine’s eyes. “So why did you say no?”

“I didn’t say no, Kurt. I want to marry you someday. But … ”

“What is it?”

Blaine grimaced. “But let’s face it. You proposed just now because of the baby, and - .”

Kurt looked sternly at Blaine. “Hold up now. I asked you because I want to spend my life with you. Sure, if we’re being totally honest, I wouldn’t have asked _now _if you weren’t pregnant. We’re 18 and 17 and if this hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t be thinking about marriage right now. But I wouldn’t ask you at all if I didn’t love you and want us to be together always.”__

“You mean that? Or are you lying again?” Blaine teased, and Kurt stopped his teasing mouth with a deep, searching kiss. 

“Will you marry me, Blaine Anderson?” he whispered.

“Yes,” Blaine said happily, resting his head on Kurt’s shoulder. “When I’m 18 and Dad can’t stop me,” he yawned sleepily. Kurt cuddled him close, glad that at least one thing about this was settled.

*~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~

“Here. I … I made these for you. The very first pair of paternity pants.” Kurt brandished a pair of jeans and demonstrated the elastic waist and belly panel. “You can wear these with an untucked dress shirt … I altered this one for you,” he explained. 

Blaine beamed. “You’re so good to me,” he smiled, taking the pants and holding them up to his waist. 

“Try them on,” Kurt urged softly, hooking his fingers through Blaine’s belt loops and pulling him close for a kiss.

“Okay,” Blaine breathed, pulling off his suspenders and kicking off his shoes. “There’s something I want to do first, though,” he gasped between frantic kisses. He pulled Kurt’s shirt off over his head and suddenly it was a desperate race to lose all their clothes, and then Kurt found himself seated at the edge of his bed getting an enthusiastic blow job.

The Hummel house was empty this afternoon, thankfully, and Kurt was able to moan and grunt unworried about listening ears while his boyfriend expertly sucked him off. Even though nobody was home, and wouldn’t be for several hours, it felt extra naughty with the light streaming in the window across the bed and the bedroom door wide open. He knew that a lot of people don’t particularly like giving head, or so he’d heard, and acted like it was a huge favor when they did it. But Blaine seemed to enjoy giving as much as he did receiving, or gave a pretty good impression of it. He was kneeling on a pillow at the edge of the bed where Kurt was sitting with spread legs, going to town on Kurt’s dick, taking all of it without hesitation down his throat while fondling his balls with a gentle, firm hand. It was so hot that Kurt couldn’t keep quiet, couldn’t keep still, and he gripped Blaine’s gelled head with both hands to urge him on, not that he needed much encouragement. The view was perfect like this, with Blaine’s lightly muscled back and shoulders gleaming with a light film of sweat, and his round, perky little ass just out of reach, as he devoured Kurt’s cock, like he was starving for it. 

Kurt hooked his knees over Blaine’s shoulders to draw him even closer, but that was a mistake, he realized quickly with embarrassment. He’d forgotten his … his gut. Blaine didn’t seem to mind, but .. he put a hand up to hold Kurt’s stomach back slightly so he could get full access to Kurt’s length … and Kurt felt a surge of utter humiliation. The feeling of Blaine’s tongue tracing around the base of his cock nearly drove the embarrassment away, but then … Blaine jerked away suddenly and looked, puzzled, at Kurt’s belly, his hand still pressed against it.

“Wh- what’s wrong,” Kurt panted. “Do you - do you need to rest a little? Are you tired?”

Blaine sat back on his haunches, still looking at Kurt’s midsection with a little frown, while pressing in with his hand. Kurt gulped with shame … he was so soft all over from his weight gain and water retention lately … meanwhile Blaine was still somewhat overly thin from his morning sickness, the only evidence of his pregnancy a slight swelling in his lower abdomen with the skin pulled tightly over it. Blaine put his other hand on his own belly and shut his eyes.

“Blaine, what is it, honey --”

“Ssssh,” Blaine said. “There! There it is again. Do you feel that - that flutter? In your - - in your belly?”

Kurt’s face burned bright red. “What the fuck is the matter with you?” he said, tears springing to his eyes. “I get it! I’m fat!” His hard-on was completely ‘off’ at this point, and he shoved Blaine’s hand away, hurt and angry.

“Kurt, please, I’m not trying to hurt your feelings,” Blaine pleaded. “You’re too hard on yourself, you’re not … you haven’t … well, okay, you’ve put on a couple pounds, but I don’t care about that. What I’m asking is about that … that feeling --- It almost feels like … when the baby moves inside me - -”

“Yeah, because I’m so fucking fat I must be pregnant, that’s what you’re saying? Oh, and by the way, it’s just gas from … from that Mexican food you insisted on us having for lunch. Mexican food makes me gassy, okay? Thanks for making me self-conscious about it.” He got up and stormed to the bathroom and slammed the door in Blaine’s penitent face.

“Kurt, I’m sorry…” Blaine called through the door. “It’s just that the legends about the gay men who got pregnant from the icons, said both men got pregnant. I’ve been wondering why I was the only one it happened to this time, and … when I felt that … it made me think that … well, that maybe it happened to you too. I know it was stupid of me, and I’m sorry. I guess my imagination is getting the better of me. If you’re sure you’re not … like me, then that’s good enough for me. I’m so sorry I killed the mood. Can I make it up to you?”

“I’d rather not,” Kurt said sullenly, leaning against the bathroom door. “I’m not exactly in the mood anymore.”

There was a long moment of silence, before Blaine meekly said, “Are you going to be in there a while with … your gas thing, Kurt? Because I never got off either … would it be totally inappropriate if I took care of that in here while you’re - er -”

“Go home, Blaine,” Kurt shouted. When there was no answer, he worried that he’d been way too harsh, and quickly opened the door and stuck his head out. Blaine was sitting dejectedly on the bed, his dick completely flaccid now as well. He looked at Kurt sadly and Kurt relented. 

“Okay, don’t give me that look,” Kurt said. “I really don’t think I can get it up again, but … let’s lie down together for a while and cuddle. I know you didn’t mean to hurt my feelings.” Blaine happily made kicky-feet, and scooted back on the bed, opening his arms to Kurt, who climbed up beside him and laid his head on Blaine’s shoulder. They lay there together naked in the afternoon sunshine, and Kurt felt himself relaxing and pressed a kiss to Blaine’s neck. He reached a hand out and stroked Blaine’s firm, rounded little belly softly, and felt their baby girl kicking against his hand. Blaine must be high, he thought. That doesn’t feel anything like that thing I’ve been getting after I eat lately. And at night when I lie down. Not at all. 

“Lower,” Blaine murmured helpfully. Kurt smothered a laugh, and closed his hand around Blaine’s renewed erection. He enjoyed the sight of Blaine writhing under his attentions, but his own arousal was far, far gone as he tried to convince himself that … that there was no reason to be worried about that weird little fluttering in his own belly.


	14. Registration

Blaine at his side, Kurt entered a store in the Lima Mall that he never had occasion to before. Babies ‘R’ Us. The last shopping frontier, and he looked around cautiously at the unfamiliar terrain.

“So … baby registry's that away,” Blaine gestured toward a huge sign emblazoned with storks, hung above a desk. They approached the Registry Desk hand in hand, and greeted the middle-aged woman sitting there with trepidation.

“Hello, boys. Here to buy a gift? What’s the mother’s name, I’ll print out a list for you,” she smiled.

“Uh …” Kurt glanced at the woman’s name tag. “Actually, Claire, we’re here to register. For our baby.”

Claire stared at them a moment, then shook her head. “Listen, boys, it’s a Saturday afternoon and we’re always extra-busy on Saturdays with mothers registering. I only have so many of the scanners,” she explained, pointing to the wall where only two hand-held scanners still hung. “I suppose this is some kind of fraternity dare or something, but I can’t give you my last two scanners.”

“Do we look like frat boys to you?” Kurt said, gesturing to Blaine’s pregnancy-modified Brooks Brothers ensemble and his own Vivienne Westwood blouse and stretch pants, the only thing he could still fit into at this point. They’d have to go shopping in the menswear store after they were done here, because he simply hadn't been able to stop binge eating and the results were apparent. 

“Erm... Miss Claire … the thing is ... we’re a couple, and we’re expecting a baby. We were hoping to be able to register here,” Blaine explained patiently. “Here’s the sonogram.” Blaine took a copy of his latest sonogram from his wallet and handed it over proudly. 

Kurt slipped an arm around Blaine’s back. He’d been looking forward to this … something fun, shopping for their new baby, even if only their families and a few select friends would know about their secret for a while. He hoped this stern lady wouldn't ruin it. They looked pleadingly at Claire, who sighed and waved to the chairs. “Fine. Sit down and let’s get started.”

Claire asked the name of the baby’s mother and father, and as they'd decided beforehand, they gave only their first initials and last names, “B. Anderson” as the mother, and “K. Hummel” as the father. The due date of December 15. And then they were given two scanning guns and turned loose in the store. 

“Let’s not go too crazy,” Kurt cautioned. “She won’t need a million clothe- oh my god! Blaine! A leopard-print coat!!” Kurt scanned it quickly, and Blaine laughed.

“Kurt, that coat was $55.00 and she won’t be big enough to wear it until next year! I think we should focus on the essentials.”

“Right. Car seat, playpen, crib. Onesies, diapers. Bottles,” Kurt agreed. “I’ve been doing research and those are the main things she’ll need right at the beginning.”

“You’ve been researching?” Blaine said, tilting his head and pointing toward a white crib. “What about that one?”

“We should get one of the ones that convert into a toddler bed,” Kurt mused, consulting his list. “That cherry-wood one over there is rated very highly for safety and durability.” At Blaine’s impressed look, he admitted, “And yes, I’ve been doing research. We have to think about the future, not just when she’s tiny.”

“This is true,” Blaine said, pointing the scanner at the tag and scanning it. “And while we’re on that topic … you were invited to a tour of NYADA next week.”

“Oh, yeah, that,” Kurt said, examining some crib sheets. “Only 300 thread count,” he said disapprovingly. 

“Kurt. You should go.”

“It’s optional, Blaine. I don’t want to leave you right now, okay?”

Blaine put a hand on Kurt’s arm. “We agreed you’d keep your options open. All this registering and all is fun, but… we still don’t know that … that things will work out - -”

“Don’t say that! It’s bad luck,” Kurt blurted. “Everything will work out. Our baby girl will be fine. You’ll be fine.” _You have to._

“Still. I want you to go, and there won’t be any need to leave me. I’d like to go along with you and see the campus.” Blaine held up two sets of sheets, one pink with dancing kittens, and the other pale yellow with a Noah’s Ark theme.

“Let’s not overdo the pink … I like the yellow.” Kurt scanned the sheets, and then bit his lip, asking, “Are you sure it’s safe for you to travel, though?” 

Blaine nodded. “I asked Dr. Shelley and she said I can travel up to 24 weeks. After that, she’ll want me to be local and seen twice a week … maybe even admit me to the hospital, she isn’t sure … but I’ll be twenty-one weeks next week. This might be the last chance I have to travel for a while, and I’d love to see your school so I can visualize everything when we talk on the phone. And ...my birthday is that weekend, so it could be a birthday celebration too.”

Kurt felt tears pricking at his eyes. He still wasn’t sure he wanted to go away to school. He was afraid something awful would happen if he did, somehow. For whatever reason, he had the urge to get an apartment here, and feather a nest together, and … he looked at Blaine’s hopeful face. But then again... “Okay … let’s go and make it a big birthday celebration … and … “

Blaine quirked an eyebrow. “And what?”

Kurt rubbed his back. He was getting some serious back strain the last few days. Probably from the hideous gut he was developing. "Can we sit a minute?"

"Sure." 

They moved over to the rocking chair section and sat down in side by side gliding rockers. Kurt sank into his with a relieved sigh. "God this is comfy." He reached overhead and scanned the tag with a ping of his scanner. He took Blaine's hand.

“And ... let’s get married while we’re there,” Kurt said. “We can get a license on your birthday and then if we stay the weekend, get married on Monday once the waiting period is over.”

“But then our parents won’t be there,” Blaine said dubiously. 

“I know, but I … I want to be married before the baby comes and … like you said, we can’t travel after another couple of weeks. We won’t be able to get married in Ohio so we need to go to a civilized state before it's too late. None of our parents are in favor of us getting married now anyway, so why worry about them being there?"

Blaine gave him a concerned look. “Why are you so set on us getting married before I have the baby? What difference does it make if we get married later, when I move to New York?’

“I ..” Kurt trailed off, and Blaine’s face turned serious.

“You’re afraid if something happens to me … you want to make sure you have some say over things. Is that it?”

Kurt couldn't deny it, but dodged the question. “I love you so much, Blaine. Please? We won't tell anybody unless we have to and we can have a big renewal ceremony and reception in a few years. Please."

Blaine smiled shyly and took a furtive look around before leaning over the arm of his glider and kissing him on the cheek. "Okay. I'll elope with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review


	15. Commitment

Kurt looked out over the majestic East River from the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge, and smiled at his groom-to-be. They were taking a very special and adventurous pre-wedding procession across one of the most famous bridges in the country, just the two of them. They were wearing their best suits, each with a white rose on his lapel to signify the occasion, and a simple gold band ensconced in the inside pocket for his intended. Blaine smiled back, but was leaning a little heavily against his side. 

“Are you okay?” Kurt fussed, kissing Blaine on the top of his head. 

“Well, I’m a little tired, I guess. The pre-honeymoon at the hotel wore me out this weekend.” Blaine turned his mischievous face upwards and winked coyly.

Kurt blushed with tingling pleasure at the memories of the last three nights at the Brooklyn Marriott, gazing down into Blaine's warm, sparkling eyes. He hooked an arm around Blaine's shoulders and drew him close, tenderly kissing his soft, parted lips as they walked. 

After a moment he pulled back, and returned to the topic Blaine was trying to change. “I know I really wanted this, Blaine, but … if you’re upset about your mother and our friends not being here … we don’t have to go through with it if you’re not happy. I want you to be happy on our wedding day.”

“I am happy, Kurt! So happy!" Blaine protested, kissing him firmly on the lips. “I … I just have one of those headaches coming on again, and you know I don’t like to take anything for them because of the baby. If we go slow I’ll be fine.”

“This is a busy day we have planned,” Kurt said regretfully. “This long walk and then the wedding and then the NYADA tour. Listen, if you get tired at any point, you tell me and we’ll stop to rest, or if you need it, we’ll get a cab back to the hotel.”

“Okay,” Blaine agreed softly, and they started off at a leisurely pace across the rest of the bridge. Kurt reflected that soon, their lives would change forever. It wouldn't be like this, just the two of them, very often once their little girl arrived. He focused on the moment, trying to be totally present in it. He looked at the sunlight twinkling on the surface of the East River, felt the warm breezes that couldn't ruffle either of their product-laden hairstyles. He beamed back at the indulgent smiles and congratulations offered by the other pedestrians as they passed the happy young couple. Blaine's hand felt so right in his, like it was made for him to hold. It was their wedding day and they were deeply in love.

He had never been so happy...or so terrified.

~ * ~

“8:30 sharp,” Kurt said. “We should be first in line.” They rounded the corner to the municipal wedding chapel and the City Clerk's office and stopped, stunned, at the line of couples already waiting. 

“I hope they get to us on time,” Blaine worried. “Looks like we have to take a number,” he said. Kurt approached the ticket machine and pulled a ticket. “Number ten,” he said. “Let’s find couple number nine and see if one of them will be our witness.”

As Kurt turned around, distracted, he collided with the shirt front of a very tall man. Spluttering an apology, he looked up. A familiar, kind face gazed down at him.

“Finn!?!"

Rachel, pretty in a simple white cotton summer dress and carrying a bouquet of white daisies wrapped in white eyelet ribbon, poked her head around Finn's elbow and gasped. The four of them stared, open-mouthed, at one another.

After a shocked moment, Rachel planted her hands on her hips and stomped her small high heeled foot on the marble tiled floor in indignation. “Kurt! You’re getting married without telling me, your best friend?!?” She shouted, poking him in the chest with her bouquet. Kurt swatted it away.

“Well, what are you doing here?” Kurt demanded. "And what do you have on? Why didn’t you call me to go shopping for your gown? And ..." he glared at Finn and Rachel in turn. "Did you consider what your dads and and Carole going to say? How could you just elope like this?” He ignored Blaine's quizzical look; their situation was totally different from Finn and Rachel's. Totally.

Rachel sighed and slipped her arm through Finn's, raising her eyes to beam at him. "Well... we were here for the NYADA tour and we just figured, we’re engaged, we have college to pay for, why waste a lot of money on a big wedding? So we got the license Friday and I bought this dress, and here we are."

Finn met Kurt's eyes, and the unspoken concern passed silently between them. Finn ran a hand through his hair and explained it to Rachel. “But we can’t all elope, or Burt and Mom will kill all of us when we all show up back there married and they find out they’ll never see either of our weddings. Two of us have to put it off and get married with our parents there."

“So... you guys don’t get married, then,” Kurt suggested. He held up the ticket he’d just pulled. “We were here first.”

“But we were engaged first!” Rachel objected, yanking a number eleven from the machine. “And we’re older. We're high school graduates and Blaine is still in high school and barely eighteen!”

“Yeah, but we’re expecting a baby in four months! And we can’t get married in Ohio, like you could if you wanted to! This is our last chance before Blaine will be on travel restrictions!” Kurt stormed. “Why do you two have to ruin everything! It’s bad enough we all lost our virginities the same night, now we’re getting married the same day? It’s ... it's tacky and ridiculous!”

“I think it’s amazing,” Blaine interrupted. They all turned to him. “We’re the Four Musketeers, and you two are brothers. We can witness each other’s weddings. There’s no reason we can’t all get married today.” 

"Hey! We could do a double wedding," Finn started, but Kurt glared a warning.

“Now serving number 10,” a voice sounded over the loudspeaker. 

“We're not having a double wedding, and Blaine and I are getting married first,” Kurt declared.

“By the way, I lost my virginity first, for the record, not the same night as the three of you guys,” Finn whispered to Kurt, going still and frightened as Rachel overheard and glared at him. “Not a good time to bring that up,” he mumbled, and Rachel nodded coldly.

“Come on,” Blaine coaxed. “Rachel and Finn, will you be our guests and witnesses? Please?” 

Finn and Rachel looked at each other and smiled. Rachel took out her camera and they all proceeded to the municipal wedding chapel for their weddings.

~ * ~  
Half an hour later, they all emerged from the City Clerk’s Office, marriage certificates in hand. 

“So, Mrs. Hudson,” Kurt asked. “How about sharing a cab to NYADA?”

“Sounds great, Mr. Anderson,” Rachel shot back. “We’ll be the most overdressed college tour-takers ever.”

“There's no such thing as being overdressed.” Kurt admired the wedding ring on his hand and carefully rolled the certificate before placing it in his inside jacket pocket. He took Blaine's hand and raised it to his lips. "Husbands," he whispered, and Blaine glowed with pride and joy back at him.

They all piled into a cab and Blaine settled next to him, laying his head on Kurt’s shoulder with a contented sigh. Kurt stroked his cheek with his knuckle, and leaned close to whisper, “Are you sure you’re up for this? I can take you back to the hotel if you need to rest.”

Blaine kept his eyes shut, but whispered back, “No, I don’t want you to miss the tour. And I want to see your school. I’m so proud of you.” 

“If you’re sure,” Kurt said doubtfully. Blaine’s face looked taut and a little grayish, and he had sat down to rest during Rachel and Finn’s wedding ceremony. Kurt glanced at Blaine's hands. They were trembling. “Blaine, I want to take you back to the hotel,” he burst out.

“Gosh, Kurt, calm down! There’s plenty of time for honeymoon sex,” Rachel scolded. “This is our first time seeing NYADA, where we’ll launch our fabulous Broadway careers!”

Kurt felt his stomach tighten. He still didn’t know how he could leave Blaine behind, carrying his child, and live the carefree glamorous life of a New York drama school student. He was here because he was humoring Blaine, who was determined that Kurt should have his NYADA dream. But … how could he go through with enrolling? Rachel didn’t understand. Finn would be in New York, and they weren’t expecting a baby. 

They pulled up to the corner and Kurt leaned out, his heart leaping strangely when he saw the NYADA logo on the front door of the building. Rachel squeezed his hand and squealed beside him, and he remembered … how excited they had been when they read about NYADA, about Carmen Tibideaux and all the famous and talented instructors, the amazing courses that would be available here. And when they planned to live in Manhattan, near the heart of the theater district. He felt that pull again as he and Blaine emerged from the cab with Rachel and Finn and surveyed the school for the first time.

Maybe it could work. Maybe he could do it; he could come home and visit Blaine often, especially when it was time for the baby to come. Blaine wanted him to. In the long run, maybe getting a college education at a great school like this was important. 

He grew more and more tempted and impressed as they made the rounds at the school with the other incoming freshmen, guided by the regal Carmen Tibideaux herself. They looked in on a dance class with Cassandra July, a famous Broadway train wreck and legend. They watched part of a stage combat class, followed by a mime seminar. They ended in the performance hall, with its high, acoustic ceilings. Kurt imagined what his voice would sound like echoing in here.

“Oh, Kurt, this place is amazing,” Blaine breathed. “Maybe someday I can try to come here too.”

“That would be great,” Kurt agreed, picturing it. The two of them living together in the married housing available near the school, raising their baby girl together, studying their craft together. Then becoming big stars someday. It could work, couldn’t it? 

Resplendent in a purple turban, Carmen clapped her hands. “Ladies, gentlemen, that’s the end of our tour. I welcome each and every one of you to our NYADA community. Feel free to continue to explore on your own if you wish. And I’ll see you in September.”

As they turned to go, Carmen called out, “Just a moment, Mr. Hummel.”

Kurt stopped, and looking curiously at Rachel, approached Carmen. “Yes, Madam Tibideaux?”

Ms. Tibideaux fixed him with a stare, and her gravelly voice was stern. “I understand you haven’t submitted your physical examination to the admissions office yet. The deadline was last week.”

“Oh … I’ve been so busy this summer, it must have slipped my mind. I’ll take care of it first thing when I get home.” 

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Hummel. We need to be assured that our students are physically and mentally fit to withstand the rigors of our traditional program. If you’re not, then we need to cut you now and extend an invitation to another student. A physician is at the health office to conduct examinations on anyone who hasn’t turned in their paperwork. First floor, room 106. Take care of it today, Mr. Hummel.”

“Geeze, ableist much?” Kurt muttered under his breath as Carmen swept away. Blaine appeared at his side.

“What did she want, Kurt?” Blaine asked, his eyes huge and concerned. 

“Oh, she wants me to see the school doctor and get a medical clearance today. She can stick it,” Kurt said irritably. “I’m tired and hungry. Let’s check out the NYADA cafe.”

“Absolutely not ! You're going to take care of this, Kurt. It’s close to four, the doctor might not still be here if we take time to eat!” Blaine protested. “You’re not going to starve, we had lunch three hours ago and you had a granola bar and a yogurt since then!”

“That was my early-afternoon and mid-afternoon snacks … it’s time for my late afternoon snack,” Kurt whined. Blaine grabbed his hand and started dragging him toward the stairs.

“Hold on, guys,” Rachel called. “We’ll come wait with Blaine and then all of us can go get dinner someplace. A mini wedding reception for all of us, yay!" she squeaked.

“Great,” Kurt said glumly. The perfect honeymoon, turning his head and coughing and then having dinner with Rachel and Finn. “Let’s get this over with.”

~ * ~

In the health office, Kurt dutifully produced a urine sample, then endured a blood draw and a rectal examination. Dr. Carter asked an interminable list of questions, and Kurt wearily answered them all. No, he wasn’t a smoker. No, he didn’t do drugs or drink. When the questions turned to whether he’d had a recent gain or loss of weight, he blushed.

“Well, this isn’t my usual weight,” he acknowledged. “I’ve gained about twenty pounds in the last five months.”

“Looks like you’re putting most of it on in the midsection,” Dr. Carter commented. “You’ll want to watch that. Abdominal fat is the most dangerous to your health. Well, lie down for me, please,” he directed, patting the exam table.

“Hey, you already got to third base and you didn’t even buy me dinner,” Kurt joked, his chuckle trailing off at the doctor’s annoyed look. He hauled himself up on the table and laid on his back.

“Let’s check your internal organs,” Dr. Carter said, feeling Kurt’s abdomen. Ticklish, Kurt fought the urge to giggle. “Relax, Kurt. You’re tensing up.” As he pressed into Kurt's belly, Dr. Carter’s expression changed slightly. “That’s … hm. Seems to be some organomegaly … the liver?” He looked concerned and kept palpating more deeply, then turned in astonishment and stared at Kurt. He reached for his stethoscope.

“What’s the matter? What did you feel?” Kurt asked, as Dr. Carter applied the stethoscope to his belly. 

“The swelling … it moved,” Dr. Carter said. “Couldn’t you feel it?”

“I - - I - - ,” Kurt whispered, his mouth going dry. “I don’t know.” No. Please don't say it. It's not true, it's not.

“I just don’t understand,” Dr. Carter said, looking completely confused and placing the stethoscope back around his neck, feeling again over Kurt’s belly with the palms of his hands. With the skin and flesh pulled back taut, an unmistakable outline of a small bump tracing along the inside of his abdomen and fluttering back was visible between the doctor's hands. 

Dr. Carter stared, transfixed. “I would swear that - that you - - you were - - “

“Pregnant,” Kurt supplied dully. “I’m pregnant. Aren’t I?”


	16. Complications

“I can’t believe it … but yes. You’re pregnant.” Dr. Carter shifted awkwardly on his feet. “Kurt. Are you under the care of a physician for this … condition?”

Kurt remained lying on the exam table, staring up at the ceiling. He felt surprisingly numb. Perhaps because on some level, he’d known for a while now, but refused to acknowledge the truth. He shook his head. “No. I haven’t seen a doctor.”

“Well, you really need to. Even in a … normal pregnancy, prenatal care is incredibly important. I can’t emphasize strongly enough that you must have a full workup. From this limited exam, I don’t see any adverse effects of the - - the pregnancy - - but - -” Dr. Carter was breathless, and propped himself against the exam table by his hands for a moment before continuing shakily. “I simply can’t clear you for admission to NYADA without a full set of tests and - - “

“Dr. Carter!” The receptionist burst into the exam room. “You need to come out to the waiting room, right now! There’s an emergency!”

Kurt caught his breath. Only three people were in the waiting room. Blaine was in the waiting room -

He leaped from the exam table and raced behind Dr. Carter out into the waiting area. His eyes immediately found Blaine, and his heart sank. Rachel was at his side stroking his hair soothingly, and Blaine was panting, his face was flushed, and his lips were tense with pain. A nurse was kneeling in front of Blaine, taking his blood pressure. Finn was sloshing water from the nearby water cooler into a paper cone cup, and onto the floor in his nervous haste to help.

“His pulse is over 120, and he was complaining about a headache and blurry vision,” the nurse said, checking the cuff. She looked at Dr. Carter with a grave expression. “200/150”. 

“I’m s- s- sorry, Kurt!” Blaine was babbling. “I’m sorry, Kurt. I didn’t want to - - to ruin the day - -”

“Call an ambulance,” Dr. Carter instructed the receptionist, who rushed behind the desk and picked up the phone.

“He’s pregnant,” Finn blurted frantically from the corner, two cones of cold water uselessly dripping in his hands. Dr. Carter’s eyes widened again, but he simply nodded. 

“Lay him down on the floor,” the doctor ordered. Desperate to help, Finn flung the two cups into a potted plant and raced over, picking tiny Blaine up bodily under his back and legs bridal-style, and lowered him to the floor with care. Rachel pulled off her cardigan and pillowed Blaine’s head tenderly, while Kurt held his hand and tried to reassure him silently, with a calm, loving look, that everything would be all right.

The receptionist shoved some medical equipment into Dr. Carter’s hands. He started unfurling a tube, and explained quickly, “I’m going to start an IV and push some normal saline to try to bring the blood pressure down. Talk to him and keep him calm.”

“Kurt, I’m so sorry,” Blaine gasped.

Kurt smoothed his damp hair back, and shook his head, shushing him. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, sweetie! Just rest quietly, okay? It’s all going to be okay, I promise. I’m right here,” he said, forcing himself to smile as if he wasn’t terrified beyond belief by the grim faces of the doctor and nurse. He forced himself to stare into Blaine’s eyes, willing him to stay calm, to be all right. 

The eyes that looked back at him were clouded with pain, pupils dilated. “My head hurts so bad, Kurt.” Blaine’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “- - you need to call Dr. Shelley - - find out what to do - -”

“Okay, honey, but let the doctor take care of you right now, okay? And try to relax. Breathe slowly, in and out, along with me, please …”

He held Blaine’s gaze intently, squeezing his hand while the doctor started the IV and kept checking and re-checking Blaine’s vital signs. He found himself praying … to whom or what, he couldn’t say … but the words kept spiraling in his mind, over and over. Please let him be all right. Please let both of them be all right.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Kurt sat with his head bowed over his clasped hands in the waiting room at the maternal-fetal unit at the hospital. So many doctors had been in and out of Blaine’s room, buzzing around and holding conferences and asking a million questions. Blaine was their own personal freak show, it seemed, and all of them were fascinated and thrilled to observe what they naively believed was a one-of-a-kind medical marvel. Little did they know that Blaine was no longer unique, and a matching freak was seated a few yards away. Kurt pressed a hand over his belly, feeling the fluttering that he’d been in denial about for weeks. He still couldn’t quite process his own news, and the one person in the world who would know what he was going through, the one person he wanted to confide in and who had the greatest right to know before anyone else … was unable to hear it. He was alone in this, and would be alone until Blaine was stabilized.

Though Kurt had no one to talk to about his pregnancy, he wasn’t entirely alone, of course. Finn and Rachel were nervously pacing around him, but he was so overwhelmed and exhausted he could only sit slumped in his chair, too drained, both by his own secret and the terrible fear for his husband and … one of his babies, to talk to them or even to cry.

Looking up, he saw more support was on the way, and the sight raised mixed emotions. His parents, and Blaine’s, were stepping off the elevator and heading toward him … along with Blaine’s Ohio doctor, Dr. Shelley. Kurt frowned … he had notified Dr. Shelley to have Blaine’s records faxed to the unit, but he hadn’t expected Dr. Shelley to show up here in person. 

Glancing toward Blaine’s door, he saw the hospital’s Chief of Obstetrics, a British man in his mid forties who had a dazzling resume and had risen rapidly to his high position in this major metropolitan hospital due to immense talent - at least, so the nurses here had assured him. 

“Where’s my baby?” Anna cried out, running up to Kurt. Her eyes were bright red and she was scrubbing ineffectually at her tear-stained face with a crumpled wad of toilet paper. Kurt hugged her and whispered, “They’re doing everything they can, Anna - -”

Dr. Ryan stepped forward and extended his hand. “Mrs. Anderson? I’m Dr. Ryan, the Chief of Obstetrics here. I’ve been handling your son’s case - - “

Looking nervous, Dr. Shelley spoke up, her tone uncomfortably loud and unmistakably possessive of the very special case she had been following for the last months. “I’m Dr. Shelley, Blaine’s regular obstetrician. I’ve applied for temporary privileges here, and once they’re approved, I plan to take over his care again, so - -”

“Well, that would be up to Blaine and his husband, Dr. Shelley,” Dr. Ryan interrupted. “I have to wonder if that’s appropriate given your … dubious judgment in allowing Blaine to travel in his condition. His blood pressure has been inching up at every visit, judging from the records your office faxed - -”

Dr. Shelley flared angrily, “Now just hold on, doctor - -”

“Wait a minute. Husband?” Hans spluttered, drowning out Dr. Shelley’s protests. “Kurt! Did you tell these people you and Blaine are married? Why would you do that?”

“Because we got married this morning,” Kurt said. All four parents began talking at once, and Finn took the opportunity to pipe up, “And so did Rachel and I.” Carole gasped in shock, triggering a new avalanche of reproaches from the four adults. 

Kurt cut all of them off. “Listen.: He bitch-glared at his parents and in-laws. “You can get upset about the weddings later.” He stared at Dr. Shelley and Dr. Ryan in turn. “And the two of you doctors can fight about which one of you is going to get famous from the first pregnant man on your own time. Right now - -” his voice cracked. “Right now we need to talk about Blaine and our baby, please, Dr. Ryan, what’s happening?” 

“Well, as you know, his blood pressure rose dangerously this afternoon, and along with the headaches and dizziness, we have to worry about the possibility of preeclampsia, which can lead to extremely dangerous complications for both Blaine and the baby. The tests we’ve run on the baby were perfectly normal. The blood pressure has come down, but it’s still on the higher side of normal. I want him kept on bed rest to keep his blood pressure stable, until the baby is mature enough to be delivered.”

“But - my hospital - -” Dr.Shelley started, but Kurt cut her off.

“Blaine obviously can’t be moved or fly back to Ohio, not until he and the baby are out of danger. I’m sorry, Dr. Shelley, but Blaine stays put.”

“Can we see him?” Anna pleaded. 

“Just for a little while. We need him to stay calm,” Dr. Ryan cautioned. “And not a big crowd, please.”

Kurt nodded, and turned to Hans. “You can only go in if you promise not to say anything to upset him. So … maybe it’d be safest if you just stick to “I love you” and “Hope you feel better soon,” got it?”

“Who do you think you are, talking to me that way?” Hans seethed. “I’m Blaine’s father - -”

“And I’m Blaine’s husband, and if you want to see him, you’ll follow my ground rules. Nobody says anything negative or upsetting, or they’re banned from visiting, do I make myself clear?”

Burt grinned and pushed his hat back on his head, sitting down in a nearby chair. 

“Let’s just go in. He’s all alone in there,” Anna pleaded, pulling on her husband’s arm.

Kurt filed in with his new in-laws close behind, into Blaine’s room. Blaine was in his hospital bed, surrounded by a heart monitor, with a blood pressure cuff, IV and fetal monitor attached and beeping busily. He looked small in the large bed, and exhausted. His face lit up as Kurt came in.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any flowers or balloons, I feel like a terrible husband,” Kurt murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“You’re the best husband in the world,” Blaine smiled back. “I don’t need any presents as long as I can see you. Dr. Ryan says I have to stay here until I have the baby. I’m sorry - - It’ll be so expensive, a big New York Hospital - -”

Kurt saw the numbers on the monitor click up from 125/75 to 130/80. He forced a smile to his face and managed a slight laugh. “Stop saying you’re sorry. It’s not your fault, and it’ll be fine. The administrators already talked to me and your insurance will cover all the costs of your stay, it’s all been cleared. I got it in writing, too,” he added, handing Blaine the insurance clearances. He was relieved to see Blaine’s face relax slightly as he glanced over the paperwork. 

“Well, that’s a lucky break. Thanks for having such great insurance, Dad,” Blaine said sheepishly, smiling at his father. 

To Kurt’s surprise, Hans was crying silently. Biting his lip and smearing a hand across his eyes, he said tremulously,“I just want you to be okay, son. And - and the baby. Whatever the doctors say either of you need, you’ll have it, I promise.”

“Just rest, okay, sweetheart. Take care of yourself, that’s the most important thing,” Anna added.

“I’m trying to. But can you make sure Kurt here takes care of himself too? No offense, Kurt, but … you look exhausted. And really pale. Are you okay?”

Kurt stared at Blaine for a moment, longing to tell him the truth. No, I’m not okay. I’m pregnant and you’re sick and I don’t know what to fucking do next.

He chose his words carefully. There would be no lies, even if he couldn’t tell the whole truth. “I’m just … it was a bit of a scare, today. I couldn’t take it if anything bad happened to you.” He got into the bed with Blaine and curled an arm around his chest.

Kurt saw the relief spread over Blaine’s trusting face. “It won’t. These are the best doctors in the world and I’ll be getting round-the-clock care. And hey! Silver lining! I’ll be in New York, so we’ll still be able to see each other every day while you go to NYADA! Yay, right?”

Kurt smiled tightly and leaned over to kiss Blaine’s cheek.

Behind Blaine’s head, the machine flashed - 120/70 - as Blaine shut his eyes contentedly and drifted to sleep, holding Kurt’s arm like a teddy bear against his chest. Blaine wanted to believe, so he did, and Kurt certainly understood that after the last few months. He’d never kept a secret like this from Blaine before, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was keeping those numbers on the monitor low, no matter how many secrets he had to keep, or what he had to do.


	17. Choices

Chapter 17

Gradually, Blaine’s breathing evened out and he dropped off to sleep. Moving carefully, Kurt sat up and left his brand new husband in the hospital bed. He pressed Anna’s hand and nodded to an uncomfortable-looking Hans, before heaving an exhausted breath and heading out into the waiting room.

He’d forgotten his own family was still there. His head down, Burt was flipping randomly and listlessly through a dog-eared, tattered copy of Good Housekeeping, while Carole leaned against his shoulder. Looking up and seeing Kurt, Burt dropped the magazine on the end table beside him and got up, hurrying over with Carole close behind. Without a word, he put his arms around Kurt, and Kurt allowed himself a moment to lean on someone else. To forget for a second that the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders, and let his Dad hold him like a little boy.

Rachel came up behind them and patted him on the back. “Kurt? Is Blaine okay? Is there anything we can do?” 

“I don’t know, I - - it’s all just up in the air right now,” Kurt admitted, leaning his cheek against Burt’s shoulder. “The main thing is, not to get him upset or stressed in any way, and just … hope for the best, I guess.”

After another moment, he put Burt’s arms away gently and looked around for Blaine’s Ohio obstetrician. Dr. Shelley was poring over the notebook that Kurt knew contained the notes for her book about Blaine, the world’s only known pregnant cis-gendered man. She was writing notes intently and hadn’t noticed him yet. He went over to stand by her chair and cleared his throat. "Dr. Shelley? Can we talk privately?" 

“Of course,” she said, all eagerness. She jammed her notebook into her shoulder bag and stood up.

Throwing a quick apologetic look at a suspicious looking Burt, Kurt guided Dr. Shelley toward the elevator. “Let’s go down to the cafeteria and talk a minute. In confidence?”

Dr. Shelley’s brown eyes widened. “Oh, Kurt, that goes without saying. Anything about Blaine’s condition is strictly confidential. He signed a HIPAA authorization permitting me to talk about his care with you, and only you.”

“This isn’t about Blaine’s condition.” He lowered his voice, looking back at Burt, who was staring after them with narrowed eyes. “It’s … I need to consult you about a medical matter of my own, and I don’t want it discussed with Blaine or my parents - - or anyone.”

“This is about you?” Dr. Shelley asked, confused. “But I’m a fetal maternal medicine doctor - - “ she stopped short and stared at Kurt, then down at his swollen belly. He reflexively crossed his arms, covering himself as best he could, but the doctor’s knowing look said she was on to him. The elevator door slid open and Kurt gestured toward it. Stepping in, she waited for the door to close and then said with a hint of suppressed excitement, “You too? How far along are you?”

“I’m guessing the same as Blaine, 21, 22 weeks. I can’t be sure, though, I haven’t really had a workup or anything. But big enough that the school doctor could feel it.”

“My God, Kurt - - this is - - oh my God! It’s … it’s amazing!” 

Kurt sighed and shrugged a shoulder, punching the button for the first floor, where the cafeteria was. “Yeah, amazing. Look, I … I need to talk to you about … options.”

Dr. Shelley’s face fell. “What do you mean? Do you mean ... an abortion?” she hissed.

Irritated, Kurt snapped, “I realize that you were excited there for a minute to get a new Elephant Man to write your book about, now that the original’s jumped ship to Dr. Ryan. But look at my situation, will you? I’m looking at the strong possibility that my husband will give birth to a severely premature baby … with major problems. And that’s not the worst case scenario. If Blaine’s blood pressure can’t stay under control, he could have a stroke and be disabled or …” he choked “Even die. Then what am I supposed to do at 18 with a disabled husband, a disabled baby, and another baby on the way? Or … if Blaine dies ….” His eyes filled with tears, and he was unable to even finish that thought. “I need to know what would be involved if I decide … if I decide on a termination.”

“I’m afraid I can’t be part of it if you make that decision,” Dr. Shelley said.

Kurt stared at her, open-mouthed, for a full minute before he found his voice. “You can’t be serious. You’re a doctor -- a specialist in pregnancy -- how can you be so judgmental?” he spluttered.

The elevator door slid open again and they stepped out into the lobby. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not about judging you, it’s the practicalities involved in your case. First off, it’s major surgery at this point. I can’t operate on you anywhere but in Ohio, at a hospital where I have surgical privileges. And the problem with that is, if you’re past twenty weeks, the law in Ohio doesn’t permit an abortion at all.”

“Well - - if I - - if I have to abort, then what surgery are you talking about? What would be involved?”

“Your surgeon would inject the fetus, and then do an open incision, similar to a c-section, to remove the products of conception. You’d need several weeks to fully recover, probably five or six days in the hospital post-operatively, and that’s assuming it went smoothly, no complications.”

_That wouldn’t work, though. What would I tell Blaine as a cover story that wouldn’t upset him or worry him …_

Kurt shut his eyes. All he knew was he had to protect his husband. That was the number one priority, before anything else could be considered, Blaine had to stay safe. But how? How could he best shield his husband from stress and upset? 

If he had the baby, that meant he would have to quit NYADA. Blaine would be worried and upset about that, and about Kurt’s pregnancy in addition to his own. And how could they care for two babies and each other, without college degrees or in Blaine’s case, even a high school diploma, even if everything miraculously turned out well for Blaine and both their babies? With no real jobs, it was going to be tight even with one baby, and now … he felt so overwhelmed. 

But how could he keep the truth about an abortion from Blaine, especially if it was going to be that involved of a procedure? Blaine would surely suspect something if Kurt disappeared for a week or more and then came back looking different and recovering from a surgical incision. He wasn’t sure he could pull that off. 

“I don’t know,” he said weakly. “I don’t know what to do, actually.” He leaned against the hallway wall.

“Kurt, you really do need to make up your mind one way or another soon. If you’re terminating the pregnancy, you’re very close to the viability line, the third trimester. It won’t be easy to find a doctor who’ll help you at all, once you pass that line. And if you’re having the baby, you need to start prenatal care as soon as possible - -”

“I fucking know that, Doctor!” he shouted. Some passersby stared at him, and he quieted. 

Dr. Shelley stroked his arm to calm him, and then sighed. “I don’t think you do, Kurt. Dr. Tiller was murdered in Kansas five years ago for doing late-term abortions. Since then, there’s only four doctors left in the whole country who do third-trimester abortions at all. None in New York, incidentally. Your best bet would probably be a doctor in Nebraska who still does them, but this is complicated by the fact that you need full-blown open abdominal surgery to remove the fetus. I’m not sure where you can go for this procedure after a few more weeks. If you’re less than twenty-four weeks, maybe Dr. Ryan could do it, but ...”

Kurt closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, clutching his belly. “I have to do what’s best for Blaine,” he whispered. “I have to. He comes first. I’ll talk to Dr. Ryan about an abortion.”

“What are you talking about? An abortion?” an astonished, familiar voice came from behind him. Kurt slowly turned to face it.

“We need to talk, Kurt. Now,” Burt said.

X X X X X

Kurt took his dad to a coffee shop down the street from the hospital, and they sat warming their hands around their cups. Kurt ordered a hot chocolate, and stirred it listlessly as the silence lengthened between them. Finally he set the spoon down with a clink.

“So. I take it you don’t approve of my having an abortion.”

“Kurt, I’m all for a … a person’s right to choose. You know that. I’m just taking all this in, you’ve known about this for a while and I just heard it.”

Kurt took a sip of the cocoa. “I found out this afternoon. Blaine doesn’t even know.”

“Wait. So you made this decision that fast? While all this was going on with Blaine? Kurt, are you sure about this, have you given yourself enough time to consider everything?”

Kurt turned his face toward the window, but his eyes were too full of tears to see. “I’m afraid any more stress is going to kill my husband. What else is there to consider?”

“You don’t know that. Dr. Ryan told Blaine’s parents that Blaine’s fine, the baby’s fine, as long as his blood pressure stays low.”

“My point exactly. How do you think Blaine will react when he finds out I’m pregnant too? That I have to drop out of NYADA, when he was so proud and happy for me, when it was my dream? He’s going to freak out, and … and I can’t let that happen. But … I can’t see a way that I can hide an abortion from him, either,” he admitted miserably. “I’m between a rock and a hard place.”

Burt was quite a minute. “So we’ve established that for Blaine’s sake, he’s going to have to be kept in the dark for a while, no matter what you choose. Let me ask you this, then. Back up the truck, and let’s start at the most important question. If he were well and that weren’t an issue, then what would you want? Because having a choice means making a choice, and from what I know about the law, you’ve got to make one soon. I think you need to take a step back and think about what you really want, and then go from there. And Kurt?”

Kurt looked up at his dad’s honest, serious eyes.

“No matter what you choose, I will love you exactly the same and help you exactly the same. I mean it, Kurt. I will do anything I can to help you with whatever choice you make. Whether it’s finding you an abortion doctor, or helping cover with Blaine, or … later, if you need financial help with college or just until you two can get on your own feet, you’ll have it. My grandchild or grandchildren will have it, count on that. But in return, I just want you to take a breath, look inside yourself, and just answer that question. Do you want to have this baby?”

Kurt blinked hard. Quinn flashed through his mind, and he guiltily recalled that she had no such support from her parents, who taught her that abortion was a sin and that pregnancy was a scandal, and turned her out of their home at just sixteen to deal with it alone. He was so lucky.

He shut his eyes, trying to put aside everything else, and figure out what he truly wanted. Tried to visualize it. And the vision that came to his mind was a simple one. He and Blaine, married, a year from now … with two beautiful babies. Blaine finished with high school … both of them in college, together. Raising their family. That was the dream ...

It might not happen. Things could always go wrong … it would be complicated. He would have to try to protect Blaine from the truth as long as he could, and then break it to him as gently as possible. His father’s promise about helping him with NYADA, and helping the two of them and their family, heartened him immensely. It could work. Couldn’t it?

His dad put his hand over Kurt’s. “What are you feeling, Kurt? What do you see?”

He opened his eyes and squeezed his dad’s hand. “I saw what I want.”


	18. Exploring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NC - 17 for this chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NC - 17 for this chapter

“Okay, Kurt … there’s your baby,” Dr. Shelley told him, her voice hushed. Dr. Ryan was looking over her shoulder, mesmerized by the images.

“Amazing, isn’t it, Dr. Ryan?”

He nodded. “Beyond amazing. I see there’s the same pseudo-uterus as in Blaine’s case. And the measurements?”

“Coinciding. They’re at basically the same stage, somewhere around 23 weeks,” Dr. Shelley answered, moving the ultrasound probe over Kurt’s skin, slick with gel. “Hey. Kurt, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?”

“I - - I just wish Blaine could be here with me,” Kurt sniffled. He looked up at Burt for support, but Burt was slack-jawed and dazed, staring at the monitor. “Dad?”

 

Burt blinked. “I - - I’m just … I … That’s really a baby in you …“

 

“Eloquent as always, Dad,” Kurt deadpanned. “But I know what you mean. I can’t believe it myself, even though it’s happening to me.”

 

Dr. Ryan and Dr. Shelley were shoulder to shoulder, checking the baby. “Kurt, everything looks perfectly normal and on schedule. Do you want to know what you’re having?” Dr. Ryan offered.

 

Kurt sighed. Blaine should be here to see this. He would be so thrilled. Something’s missing when he can’t be here. “Not yet,” he said. “I’ll wait and find out when Blaine does.”

 

“Okay,” Dr. Shelley said warmly. “I think that’s a nice idea. In the meantime, we’ll do an amnio to make sure everything’s all right … and to establish paternity. We still have all the information from the last DNA tests.”

 

“There’s no need for a paternity test. It’s Blaine’s and my baby, of course.”.

 

The two doctors exchanged a look, before Dr. Ryan cleared his throat. “Well, we’d just like to confirm that scientifically. For the study. And the book.”

 

“Yes. The book,” Kurt sighed. I’m a little sorry we agreed to that. In exchange for free prenatal care, Kurt and Blaine had both signed papers giving permission for Dr. Shelley and Dr. Ryan to write a case study, and then later to collaborate with Blaine’s mother on a mass-market book about their story. Anna would be writing the historical background material, and had taken a sabbatical and moved to New York to help out with the pregnancy while researching all the legends of Ariadne and the men who had become pregnant through her power in ancient times before the icons had been lost for two millenia. She had planned a trip to Crete for direct research next year as well, once the baby was a little older and they wouldn’t need as much help. Dr. Shelley and Dr. Ryan had agreed to work together on the modern, medical side of this bizarre story.

 

Blaine, of course, thought he and the baby he was carrying were the book’s main focus, and Kurt wanted to keep it that way as long as possible. Their “twin” babies would be viable in just another week, and then after that … the longer Blaine’s pregnancy could be prolonged, the better. 

 

“Well, if it’s necessary for the book, then by all means, do a DNA test.” 

 

It doesn’t matter one way or another, this is our baby, no matter what that test says. His eyes lingered on the screen, taking in all he could, memorizing it. “I can’t wait to meet you, little one.”

 

X X X X X X

 

Kurt meticulously scrubbed off all traces of the gel from the ultrasound procedure. There were more than enough signs of pregnancy to hide as it was, he thought as he pulled up his freshly re-tailored pants. If Blaine spotted any of that tell-tale blue gel on his clothes, it might give him away. He buttoned his shirt and slipped his arms into a blazer, also newly adjusted to camouflage his growing belly as much as possible. 

 

The sonogram machine whirred and a strip of black-and-white prints curled out of the printer.

 

“Do you want a picture?” Dr. Shelley offered. 

 

“I’d love it.” Kurt looked again at the little face, smiling, and then handed the long strip of pictures to Burt. “I can’t have this on me … I don’t want it falling out of a pocket or anything. I’m going to see Blaine now. Can you hold this for me?”

 

Burt took the pictures and looked at them wonderingly. “Say hi for me,” he called after Kurt as he left Dr. Shelley’s office and headed down the hallway to Blaine’s room. 

 

He chuckled as he smelled the sweet scent of an aromatherapy candle wafting out of Blaine’s hospital room. Raspberry. That kid. One of a kind.

 

The room was darkened, the curtain was drawn around Blaine’s bed, and soft jazz was playing. Blaine had raised relaxation to a science and art form combined, and was successfully keeping his blood pressure well within normal limits. “Hey, cutie,” Kurt said, sticking his head around the curtain. Blaine’s bed was empty, and Kurt craned his neck to see over it. Sure enough, Blaine was sitting in the lotus position on the floor, his round belly protruding adorably in his yoga shirt and pants. He was still attached to his Holter monitor and blood pressure cuff, and Kurt glanced approvingly at the monitor, showing a very respectable 100/70.

 

“Hey yourself, handsome,” Blaine murmured, not opening his eyes. “Check out that blood pressure.”

 

“Looking good. And so are you. But on the floor? Really?” Kurt tutted. “This is a hospital. That floor could be crawling with germs.”

 

“I’m on my mat, of course,” Blaine explained. He crooked a thumb downward, without moving his hands from his knee or disturbing his pose. “I have another five minutes or so, don’t I?” He pointed the hand again, this time at the wall. Kurt glanced at the dry erase board Blaine had talked the nurses into allowing him to hang up, divided into sections of time, each one with a specific activity on it. Right now was yoga time, and the next block was “Kurt time”. 

 

“You’re insane, you know that.”

 

Blaine inhaled slowly and blew out. “It helps me to have a schedule. I feel more normal that way. And that’s not easy, in here, and with the baby and all.” He glanced up. “Where’s my kiss?”

 

Kurt leaned over with difficulty and kissed his husband’s upturned face, laughing and slapping away Blaine’s hand when he tried to pull him down to the mat. “No, honey! You’re supposed to be taking it easy!”

 

“Pleease? Kurt, I’m so backed up sexually, it’s crazy. The nurses aren’t going to come back in here for another hour, can’t we - -”

 

The sight of Blaine’s pleading face at crotch level nearly undid Kurt, and he felt the blood rush to his groin. God, it’s been forever.

 

“You know I want to. But we can’t,” Kurt said reluctantly. ”Not here.”

 

“Okay, fine, killjoy,” Blaine huffed. He pivoted on his backside, then moved through the poses to downward dog, raising his still-pert bottom in Kurt’s direction. “If you’re sure,” he purred, looking up at Kurt from between his legs.

 

“Get up from there and get into the bed,” Kurt said breathlessly.

 

Blaine grinned. “Now you’re talking my language!”

 

“To cuddle!” Kurt helped him up, and into the hospital bed. “That’s it, mister! This is an order from your husband!”

 

“Ugh. You know, I was thinking.”

 

"Oh no."

 

"Ha. I was thinking technically, we’re not really even married, unless we … y’know. Since the wedding we haven’t even given each other a blow job,” Blaine wheedled, settling into the bed. “C’mon. How about a little something? Just to make things legal? Consummate the marriage?”

 

“Consummate it!” Kurt scoffed. “I knocked you up and we had our honeymoon before the wedding, remember? I don’t think that argument will hold up in court.” His erection was still raging, and he realized suddenly that Blaine’s cock was hard against his leg through his yoga pants. “Uh…” he whispered, his throat dry. “Just … just rest, okay?”

 

They lay in the warm, dimly lit room for a moment, listening to the yoga tape and beeping monitor and expanding and deflating blood pressure cuff on Blaine’s arm, and just holding each other close. Kurt realized their bellies were pressed together, and he felt the baby in Blaine’s belly stirring against him. 

 

“Okay. I guess just cuddling with you’ll have to do for now,” Blaine said, running a hand along Kurt’s chest and looking up with dewy eyes. 

 

While trying not to react to Blaine’s body close to his, Kurt felt the baby in his own belly give a swift kick, and shifted a little, praying that Blaine didn’t notice it. Fortunately, Blaine seemed to be focusing on matters farther south, and on mouthing wetly at Kurt’s neck. 

 

“Kurt,” he breathed, and Kurt shivered at the sound and feel of Blaine’s moaning voice. “I’m dying of sexual frustration … can’t you cure me?” He reached Kurt’s sweet spot, right behind the ear, and Kurt lost it. 

 

He flipped Blaine on to his back and straddled him. “Just a quick one, though,” he groaned, as their dicks brushed together. Blaine nodded frantically, delighted, and unbuttoned the fly of Kurt’s modified khakis, while Kurt yanked down Blaine’s flimsy yoga pants and underwear. It felt so right, yet so naughty, Kurt thought dizzily, jerking at Blaine with firm strokes. He wanted to get him off quickly, before anybody came in, but evil Blaine was wrist deep in Kurt’s pants, fondling his balls gently and slowly, sending shockwaves of tingling pleasure through his groin, and Kurt whined and thrust up. “Quicker, baby, we’re gonna get caught.” 

 

“Rowr, hot,” Blaine teased, and then gasped when Kurt released his cock and shoved Blaine’s hands away, and turned him on his side. “What are you - - oh,” he moaned, when Kurt pulled his own pants down to his knees, and slid his cock in between Blaine’s thighs from behind, reaching around considerately to resume the vigorous hand job. Blaine whined, too loud, and craned his neck, grabbing Kurt by the hair and pulling him down for a sloppy wet kiss. It took only a few more strokes before Blaine groaned a final time and came with a shudder while Kurt rutted against him wildly seeking release of his own. ”God, Blaine - - you feel so good - - I’ve missed you so much, baby - - “

Blaine was tangling his hands in Kurt’s hair urging him to come, when the curtain was jerked back with a swoosh and a scrape of the metal rings at the top. Kurt threw his arms around Blaine, startled, as the entire obstetric floor, it seemed, poured into the room with supplemental oxygen, IV lines or defibrillator paddles, shouting orders and screaming codes. A pair of hands lifted him bodily from the bed, and shoved him to the side with his pants around his ankles, while the rest of the team converged around a half-nude Blaine, running around him and blocking Kurt’s view.

 

“Oh, God,” Kurt whispered, shakily pulling up his pants and wishing he could disappear or find a trap door to escape. He looked up and saw that the blood pressure monitor was showing a much higher number than before, but it was gradually coming down, and the staff seemed to be grinning and unconcerned now. 

 

Kurt tucked himself into his pants and buckled them, and tried to inconspicuously wipe Blaine’s semen off his hand with a tissue. He looked shamefaced at the nurses and doctors standing around Blaine’s bed. “We … got a little excited. I think he’s okay, right, Blaine?”

 

“Fine,” Blaine mumbled, clearly humiliated, and pulling the blankets up, struggling to readjust his yoga pants underneath the covers.

 

Dr. Ryan ran in and pushed his way through the crowd of medical personnel. “What - -” he looked at the two of them trying to right their clothes, at the drying pool of sticky liquid on the sheets. He glanced up at the monitor, which was showing the blood pressure back at nearly baseline.

 

“Okay, guys. You can go … I guess we know what happened here.” The nurses and staff glanced at each other in amusement, and started to file out. “Look, Kurt, Blaine, this … I understand how frustrated you two are. You’re both hot-blooded teenagers. But it is very important that Blaine’s blood pressure be maintained. Please, let’s not have this kind of shenangians again, okay?”

 

“Yes, doctor,” Kurt said, dying inside.

 

“I don’t want to have to tell you again.” Dr. Ryan nodded authoritatively and strode out of the room.

 

“It was worth it, though,” Blaine said roguishly, and Kurt threw a pillow at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! It makes me keep motivated to finish! Thanks for reading!


	19. Considerations

Chapter 19 

Kurt fidgeted in his chair next to his father, watching as Carmen Tibideaux read over the letter from his doctors. Enough time lapsed for her to get through it at least three times. She slowly set the paper down on the desk, and surveyed Kurt and his father silently for over a minute. Kurt gulped, pulling down on the hideous NYADA sweatshirt he’d picked out to wear for this meeting, one, because he thought it would show his school spirit, and two, because he was getting so big that only sweatshirts were really comfortable anymore. Carmen finally shook her head.

 

“If our house doctor hadn’t told me about the results of his exam, I’d think this was some elaborate hoax,” she said, bewildered. “I’m still not sure I totally understand this.” She paused for a moment, and then ventured, “You identify as male, but you’re pregnant, is that it?”

 

Kurt sighed. “I am male, and I’m pregnant, yes.”

 

Madame Tibideaux nodded, but still looked a little unclear. “Well, there’s no gender discrimination permitted at NYADA. Your gender identity isn’t going to be an issue whatsoever.”

 

“But I identify - - I’m not - -,” Kurt tried desperately to explain, but Madame Tibideaux waved a hand at him ominously and he fell silent. He wasn’t sure she could handle the magical explanation he was about to offer, anyway.

 

“The request for modification to the first year curriculum is granted. You will take the core curriculum, but will be exempt from dance and stage combat class for the first year. However. You will have to take something else in place of those classes, and make them up later on, in order to graduate. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Hummel?”

 

“Yes, Madame Tibideaux,” Kurt said, silently exulting. It would be really hard to keep up with classes, particularly once he and Blaine both had their babies to take care of. But at least he would have the chance to try. He stood up and stuck his right hand out. “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, then.”

 

Madame Tibideaux eyed him, but reached out to shake his hand. “Good luck, Mr. Hummel. You’ll need it.”

 

X X X X

 

Getting into the cab to head back to the hospital , Burt grinned and slapped him on the back. “Well, that’s one less thing on your mind, huh?”

 

“Yeah, one out of about a thousand,” Kurt sighed. “But an important one. I’m glad I won’t miss the first year of NYADA.”

 

“This is going to be a big adjustment for you guys, taking care of two babies while going to college and high school. That’d be a big strain on any marriage.”

 

“Actually, Blaine is going to finish high school early. That’s what he’s been working on to keep busy while he’s on bed rest. He’s studying for his GED and planning to take it sometime in the next month or so. Then he’s going to take some time off and take care of the babies while I’m in school second semester. I’ll take my turn while I’m not in class, of course. Then … well, I figure we’ll need to find a good daycare for them next September so we can both go to college.”

 

“When are you letting Blaine know it’s two babies, not one, that he’s going to be responsible for while you’re studying and in class next semester?” Burt demanded sternly. “I think this secret thing is getting a little ridiculous. It’s been two weeks, and Blaine’s fine … my whole life, I’ve never seen anybody so zen as he is these days.”

 

They pulled up in front of the hospital. “Well, Blaine’s mother is taking a sabbatical while she’s working on the book, and planning to come and help us every day for at least the first few months. I think we’ll be okay.”

 

When they reached Blaine’s room, it was yoga time, as usual before Kurt’s scheduled visiting times. Blaine was splayed out on the mat in a relaxation pose, doing deep breathing exercises, his belly resting on his crossed legs. Kurt wished he could be as casual as Blaine was with his body, but he spent most of his time trying to camouflage his own belly while around his husband.

 

“Hey, sweetie,” Kurt said, and Blaine breathed in a final time and then grinned, turning his face up for a kiss. “Hi Dad,” he chirped to Burt, struggling up and climbing back into bed.

 

“So. Any thoughts on a name for my granddaughter?” Burt asked, sitting down in a nearby chair and crossing his arms over his chest. Kurt managed to hoist himself up onto the bed next to Blaine, sighing with relief and settling against the pillows, pulling one self-consciously over his abdomen.

 

“Not really,” Kurt said. “Things have been so nuts, I guess, we haven’t really discussed it.”

 

“Well, I already decided,” Blaine said tranquilly. He effleuraged his belly with a serene expression. “Ariadne Anderson. We can call her Ari for short. You can pick the middle name if you want.”

 

“Erm, excuse me, but Ariadne? Really? And don’t we both get a say in this?” Kurt said, amused. 

 

“I was raised by a Greek Mythology professor. Trust me. The last thing we need to do is disrespect a goddess. That means, we have to honor Ariadne by naming our daughter after her.”

 

Kurt scoffed, but uneasily glanced at the ceiling as if Ariadne herself might hit them with another bolt of pregnancy-lightning, or worse.

 

“And besides, you can name the one you’re carrying,” Blaine said slyly, as Kurt’s jaw dropped.

 

“Who told you!? Dad!?” Kurt shouted, sitting bolt upright.

 

“Hey, I’m innocent,” Burt protested, chuckling. “How did you find out, Blaine?”

 

Blaine blushed, and smirked up at Kurt. “I just … had a feeling for a while. When you and I were … visiting together, the other day, I was 95% sure. I didn’t say anything because … erm ….” He looked abashed. “If I was wrong, you’d kill me for bringing up your waistline again. So … when Dr. Ryan was here to see me this morning, I faked him out by pretending I already knew. He fell for it.”

 

Kurt glared at Blaine, who smiled back happily. Seeing those shining eyes, Kurt melted, and leaned in, pressing his lips softly against Blaine’s. He was dimly aware, as he deepened the kiss, of his father clearing his throat and mumbling a ‘seeya later guys’ as he left the two fathers alone together.

 

They kissed for a few more moments, lost in each other, until Blaine, between sweet, soft kisses, murmured, “I figure you didn’t tell me because you didn’t want me worrying … but please don’t keep things from me again. I can take a lot more than you think, and worrying that you’re not telling me things is worse than dealing with it. Okay?”

 

Kurt tried to kiss him again, but Blaine put his hand up between their mouths. “Promise me, Kurt. I don’t want to worry about what you might not be telling me.”

 

“I promise.” He tried to steal a kiss again, but Blaine wasn’t having it and dodged him. “Kurt. Is everything all right with you and the baby? The truth, please?”

 

He sighed and pressed a kiss to Blaine’s forehead. “We’re both fine. I promise,” he said, crossing his heart. “ But … are you happy about another baby? It means a lot more work, more - -”

 

Blaine smiled. “It’s wonderful, Kurt.” The smile dimmed a little, as he asked, “But what about NYADA?” 

 

“Still going. Don’t worry about that.”

 

“Thank goodness,” Blaine said, snuggling against Kurt’s shoulder.

 

Kurt blinked back sudden tears. “I’m sorry your pregnancy has been so difficult, Blaine - - I feel guilty - -I know it must be hard to see me doing fine, when you’re stuck here - -”

 

“Don’t,” Blaine interrupted. “Don’t apologize for that. Ever, okay?” He cuddled Kurt still closer. “I wouldn’t ever wish anything but the best for you and our baby.” He put a hand on Kurt’s belly, and stroked it softly, his face full of love.

 

“I love you both so much. Look! Our whole family is on this bed!” he laughed, scooting even closer. “We’re all together. And I know everything is going to be okay, as long as we’re together.“

Kurt nodded, though he wasn’t sure he could be as optimistic as Blaine. It would be so difficult … but he broke his promise to share everything with his husband, and kept his worries to himself.


	20. Adjustments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt starts a new life at NYADA, while Blaine finds new distractions at the hospital.

First day of college. Kurt checked himself a final time in his full-length mirror, smoothing down his meticulously tailored outfit. He’d worked on it for days. It was a difficult balancing act, minimizing his belly while still expressing a modicum of style and fashion. Thankfully, it was an unseasonably cool September, and he could get away with a long cardigan and elaborately arranged silk scarf patterned with yellow canaries, a treasured gift from Blaine and a reminder of his Warbler days, that was intended to draw the eye … up. So most of his baby-paunch was camouflaged. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his baby, but … he’d spent all his life feeling like a freak at public school, and he had no intention of letting on, the very first day, that he was a candidate for Ripley’s Believe It or Not, and screwing up his big chance of fitting in at school. You never know. This is a new beginning, a fresh start. Maybe I’ll be one of the cool kids, finally. Anything’s possible!

 

He picked up his wedding ring from the table beside his bed, but frowned when it jammed on a knuckle. Damn it. His fingers were so swollen. The platinum band glittered in the morning light, reminding him of the twinkling in Blaine’s eyes, the brightness of his smile. He missed Blaine so much. He slipped the wedding ring onto a leather cord to hang around his neck, and passed it under his shirt where he could feel it lying cool against his skin. It was his way of taking Blaine along with him.

 

He rechecked his school bag, already packed with his books for the day and his breakfast and snack, and plenty of fluids He’d promised Blaine to stay hydrated. He planned to meet Rachel to buy lunch at NYADA between classes, but a wave of panic rose up at the thought of entering a school cafeteria again, and a strange one at that. He took a deep breath. Things’ll be different here. This is college. Performing arts college. Nobody will pick on you, Kurt! Lots of people will want to sit with you. Nobody will slushy you or knock your tray out of your hands, don’t be ridiculous. And you have Rachel. He shut his eyes, breathing out slowly, and looked up when he heard a sharp rap on the other side of the dormitory suite’s door. 

 

That would be Rachel. He was so thankful and happy she and Finn had gotten into married housing along with him, and that he and Rachel had similar schedules. They would walk to the first class together, and it wouldn’t be scary. It wouldn’t. He opened the door and she burst in, taking up the entire small suite with her outsized, overbearing, star personality, and grabbing his arm excitedly. “C’mon Kurt! Time to take Manhattan!” 

 

“Okay, okay. Just … one thing,” Kurt said, laughing. He took out his phone and sent a text to his Blaine. 

 

1st day of school jitters

 

miss u so much

 

love you

 

wish me luck :)

 

He knew Blaine would be up already for morning meds and vital sign checks, and he only had to wait a second before he saw that Blaine was typing a return message. Rachel impatiently dragged him toward the door, but he put a hand up at the door jamb and waited for it. 

 

love u more

 

break a leg 

 

you’ll be great honey ttyl

 

:)

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Blaine gazed woefully at his phone, wishing so hard that he could give Kurt a kiss and send him off to college with in-person good wishes. The nurse coughed politely beside his hospital bed, and he looked up. “Hi, Joan,” he said, forcing a smile to his face, and automatically offering his arm for the morning blood draw. 

 

“Hi sweetie,” Joan chirped. “How’s my favorite patient today? Anything new?” She tapped his arm, looking for a vein, and Blaine shrugged.

 

“Not really, I guess. My husband starts college today. And I’m almost ready to take my GED, so.” He winced as she jabbed at his arm, and the vein collapsed.

 

“Sorry, hon.” Joan rounded the bed and started tapping on the other arm. “You’re a regular pincushion these days, it’s getting harder to find a good vein.” 

 

“I don’t even see why they need so much blood all the time,” Blaine complained, then bit his lip. “I’m sorry. I know you’re just doing your job.”

 

“It can’t be easy lying in here day in and day out, getting poked and prodded all day” Joan ventured. “Especially when Kurt is starting an exciting new school.’

 

“Kurt deserves it,” Blaine said stiffly. He felt the pinch of the needle and looked down, watching the blood flow quickly into the vial. “I just wish I had more to do.”

 

“Well, I have some good news for you, then. Apparently, your psychologist suggested to Dr. Ryan that you need a little change of scenery, and something’s been arranged if you’re interested.”

 

Blaine swiveled his head toward her, interest piqued. “But I can’t leave the hospital, can I?”

 

She sealed off the vial. “You wouldn’t have to. The social worker will be in later this morning to tell you all about it, but I think you’ll be excited, and maybe you can fill in those empty spaces,” she said, inclining her head toward the white board beside Blaine’s bed, where he’d sadly wiped out “Kurt time” anywhere it appeared during NYADA class time, leaving several large blanks. She pocketed the blood sample and winked as she left the room, and Blaine excitedly picked up his study guides, determined to get his work done in time so he wouldn’t miss whatever this new plan might be for him.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

Their first class was Song Interpretation, and Kurt sat terrorized as a young, British teaching assistant emptied a box of sheet music on his desk, and selected songs at random from the pile for each student to perform. Adam Crawford explained that they should review their assigned song before the professor came in to see their renditions.

 

Rachel got her selection first, and squealed loudly in delight, clapping her hands. Oblivious to the annoyed looks of her classmates, she held up the sheet music to show Kurt. He smiled thinly at the title. Don’t Rain on My Parade. Well, that guaranteed Rachel an A, and he would be relegated to sidekick to the star status again. Why did I think it was a good idea to come to the same college as Rachel, again?

 

Adam came to stand in front of Kurt’s chair next. “And you are …?”

 

“Kurt Hummel,” he whispered hoarsely. 

 

“Tenor, I assume?”

 

“He’s a countertenor,” Rachel burst in proudly. “A high countertenor.” 

 

Adam raised his eyebrows, seemingly impressed, and flipped through the sheets of music in his pile, looking for something. 

 

Kurt felt mildly uncomfortable. Adam hadn’t asked anyone else what their singing voice was. Everyone else had just gotten a random selection so far, so why was Adam singling him out, and looking at the titles for his piece? 

 

Finally, Adam handed him a piece, giving him a knowing, kind smile. Kurt couldn’t get rid of a lump that had formed in his throat, and only grimaced back. Defying Gravity, he saw, relieved. You know this one. This is your song. You can do a good job with this one. He reviewed the music, mentally running through gestures and inflections he might use for the performance, before the professor breezed in halfway through the class time. Professor Karl was an ex-Broadway star, and a grumpy one, dropping into a chair with a thud and putting his feet up on the desk. 

 

After a long drink from a travel mug, Professor picked up the class list. “Okay. Let’s hear from … Brody Weston,” he snapped. 

 

Adam held out his hand for Brody’s sheet music, placing it on the piano’s music rack as he sat on the bench. “When you’re ready, Brody.”

 

When Brody started his number, Kurt thought Brody had a nice voice. And he was smokingly hot, like a lot of people at NYADA seemed to be. But as the performance continued, Brody did more flexing than emoting, and Professor Karl gave him a withering glance at the end.

 

“Thank you, Mr. Weston. I see you made it just in the nick of time to this class.” He pointed to the blackboard. “Mr. Weston, what did Mr. Crawford write there?”

 

Brody peered at the board. “Song Interpretation?” 

 

“Correct. I commend you for electing this class as a junior. At least you realized you needed work on understanding and conveying characterization through song lyrics, and sought help. And, your grade is based in part on improvement over the semester, so … you have plenty of room for that, clearly. Sit down, please.”

 

Five more students were called on, and Professor Karl eviscerated them as well. 

 

“Well, that was painful,” Professor Karl grumbled, before looking at his class list. “Fortunately we only have time left for one more today. Let’s see …”

 

Rachel shot her arm into the air. “Professor! I’m Rachel Berry, and I’d be willing to volunteer!”

 

“This isn’t the Hunger Games, Ms. Berry, although there are several resemblances, volunteering is not an option in this class. You will wait to be called on.”

 

The class snickered, but Rachel just tossed her hair with an airy shrug, while Kurt died of second-hand embarrassment. “Sorry, Kurt, I tried to jump on that grenade for you,” she whispered out of the side of her mouth. “I know you can’t sing all of Defying Gravity.”

 

Kurt gave her a foul look, and was about to whisper something back, when Professor Karl suddenly was standing in front of their chairs. 

 

“Am I interrupting something?” he said evenly, glaring between Rachel and Kurt in turn. They both vigorously shook their heads no, and Professor Karl looked down at Kurt, shrinking in the chair. “Your name?”

 

“Kurt Hummel,” he said feebly. 

 

“You’re up, Kurt Hummel.”

 

Kurt stood, careful not to trigger the head rush that sometimes happened when he got up too suddenly, and took several deep breaths on the way over to hand Adam back the sheet music. He turned and faced the class, and noticed that many of them were eying him with open disdain, some running their gaze down to his midsection pointedly. He threw his head back defiantly. 

 

So it’s like that. Fine. Use it for the song … ‘you won’t bring me down’. Not any of you.

 

He tore through the song, meeting their stares with his own icy disdain. He played it up big, striding around the classroom, jabbing his finger toward the more smug looking ones in perfect Cooper Anderson-esque style, and - most importantly - hitting every note. He looked directly into Rachel’s eyes on the high F, enjoying the sight of her jaw dropping, and then stood panting heavily while Adam and half the class burst into wild cheers. Kurt smiled at Rachel, who was cheering the loudest for him, and then looked anxiously at Professor Karl. 

 

A smile played around the corner of his mouth. “Nicely done, Mr. Hummel. Class dismissed.”

 

Kurt hurried to collect his bag, and Rachel squeezed his arm in congratulations. He distinctly heard a snide, “He has to defy gravity every time he gets out of a chair” and a return “They grow them big out there in the heartland, I guess,” pass between two slim, lithe-looking young men who walked by arm-in-arm. He put a hand over his belly defensively, and felt a little crushed even after his triumph.

 

“Ignore them, Kurt. When people cut you down, that means they’re jealous of your talent. I know what I’m talking about,” Rachel reassured him, but he felt sad and disappointed that things had to be like that even here. When he turned to go, he was surprised that Adam Crawford was standing nearby. 

 

“Really beautiful job, Kurt,” he said, in a clipped British accent. “I wanted you to know - - Professor Karl never praises anyone. So consider what he just said a rave review from the teacher as well.”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Crawford - -”

 

“Please. It’s Adam outside class. I’m just another student here, after all. Though a senior … and, well … the leader of our NYADA show choir.” He pulled a flyer from his backpack and handed it to Kurt. “It’s loads of fun and we’d love to have you join us, Kurt. We’ll be starting our meetings a week from today.”

 

Adam’s Apples - NYADA Show Choir - Rehearsals Thursdays at 4:00

 

“Oh …” Kurt said, thinking of Blaine alone in his hospital room waiting for him to visit. He had hoped to spend some time every afternoon with Blaine, to help relieve the tedium he must be feeling. “Well … I’m flattered, but … I have another commitment after school every day, so I don’t think so.” 

 

“Listen, keep the flyer and think about it before you say no. This school can be intense, Kurt, and our group is … well, it’s a relief from all that. A chance to sing for fun, be with others who support each other as a team, not cut each other down all the time. I think you’d enjoy it.”

 

“I’m sure once you hear my performance next class, you’ll be asking me to join too,” Rachel piped up, and Adam politely nodded and handed her a flyer, but still kept his eyes on Kurt. 

 

“Take home the flyer and think about it, Kurt. We really need you. And ... “ he took the flyer back with a sly grin, and scribbled something on the back. “Here’s my number if you decide you’re interested.”

 

Kurt felt a blush forming … is this guy flirting? He had so little experience in that department, other than Blaine’s attentions, that it was a little heady. He looked down and stammered something awkward, and then watched Adam bound away. A handsome, older, British guy taking an interest in me? Is this real life? 

 

Rachel took his arm and pulled him firmly down the hallway. “Kurt Hummel, be careful. Do I need to remind you that you’re a married man, with two babies on the way?” she hissed.

 

Kurt sighed. “No, you don’t need to remind me, Rachel, I have the waistline to remind me. And the hemorrhoids, and the heartburn.”

 

“So why didn’t you tell Adam about Blaine, and the babies?” Rachel’s voice was rising, and Kurt stopped and faced her.

 

“He didn’t ask me out, Rachel, he asked me to join his show choir. And I told you before, do not talk about our babies in this school. At all,” he whispered, looking around furtively. “Blaine is one thing, of course I’m not hiding that I’m married, but please don’t bring the other part up again while we’re in public. Someone could hear and … I just don’t want that getting around, okay?”

 

“Sooner or later people are going to find out -- “

 

“When I decide the time is right,” Kurt insisted irritably. “Can I just be a normal college kid for a few months, please? Is that too much to ask?”

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ 

 

Kurt reached Blaine’s room and was surprised that there was no yoga mat, no Eastern music, and no Blaine. He felt panic rising up in him, until he saw a note lying on Blaine’s bed.

 

I’m downstairs (4th floor) having a surprise! Come down! Love you! Blaine

 

He pocketed the note, confused, and headed toward the elevator. As he pushed the button to go down, he wondered what this was about. The sonogram equipment was on the same floor as the obstetric unit where Blaine was staying, and he hadn’t been to the fourth floor. He consulted the directory posted on the elevator wall. Pediatric Orthopedics. 

 

The door opened and he came through, looking around curiously, and the stopped suddenly at the sound of piano notes … and the sweet, smooth voice singing along with them. 

 

He rounded the nurses’ station following that wonderful music to its source … an activity room, where he stood at the door watching as Blaine sang to a group of enthralled youngsters, and played his own accompaniment. Blaine caught his eye and smiled lovingly at him, and he waved back, getting a little teary-eyed at the sight of Blaine performing again, with all these children. He knew just how to entertain them, getting them to sing along and making funny faces at them, sending them into gales of giggles despite their aches and pains and broken bones.

 

He’ll make a wonderful dad.

 

Kurt sat down in a comfortable chair by the door, watching and admiring, until Blaine finished his number and stood up slowly. 

 

“That’s it for today, kids,” he said, his face looking a little tired but so happy. The children clamored for “just one more”, but Blaine’s social worker stood up from nearby. 

 

“Blaine is only allowed out of bed for an hour a day. He’s a patient here too, kids, and he needs his rest.”

 

Blaine sat down in a wheelchair brought over by a nurse, and Kurt started over towards him.

 

“Will you come back tomorrow, Blaine?” one moppet pleaded, leaning on Blaine’s legs with her pink-casted arm and blocking the wheelchair’s exit.

 

“I think so, if it’s okay with my husband here,” Blaine said, looking up at Kurt and squeezing his hand, then frowning. 

 

“Of course it’s okay!” Kurt said, astonished. “You need something like this, Blaine.”

 

“It’s just that the charge nurse on this floor said that from now on, I’ll have to go from four to five, right before the kids’ dinner. That’s when you usually visit.”

 

Kurt hesitated. “Well … I can come see you play for part of it, then. And, actually, there’s a show choir club I got an invitation to that meets at four on Thursdays anyway … maybe if you have something to do then, I can fit it in? Would you mind?”

 

Blaine looked at him quietly, with those wide, perceptive eyes, and Kurt blushed again, but there was no reason to. It was just a club, that’s all … but Adam had been the only person who had been nice to him all day. The only friend he’d made.

 

“No, I don’t mind,” Blaine finally said, playing with Kurt’s fingers in his. “Kurt? Where’s your wedding ring?”

 

He started, and then pulled the cord around his neck to show Blaine hurriedly. “Here, see? I can’t wear it on my finger anymore, my hands are a bit swollen. So I keep it here, next to my heart.”

Blaine smiled sadly. “I’m glad,” he said.


	21. Distractions

“So, great practice, Apples!” Adam praised the group. Kurt smiled at his fellow glee clubbers. They were an … _odd lot,_ as Adam might say, an assortment of sweet, gentle misfits of all shapes and sizes, rarities in a school made up mainly of self-perceived superstars with dancers’ bodies, models’ faces, and rattlesnake’s hearts. They reminded him of the New Directions, especially the original group of himself, Tina, Rachel and Artie, and he sorely needed the camaraderie these days. Rachel had refused to join the Apples once she won her Showcase and her star began to rise at NYADA. Between his expanding waistline, his fatigue, and the hours he spent keeping hospital-bound Blaine company, he was having trouble fitting in at NYADA and had no other friends here.

 

Adam clapped his hands together for attention. “Thank you, everyone. As you know, the New York Metropolitan Area Collegiate Show Choir Sectionals is in three short weeks. As you can imagine, we’ll be up against some major talent from world-class performing arts colleges in the city. So … starting this week, we’ll be working on our setlist.” He reached into his canvas bag. “Which I have right here. I’ll pass this out and I expect all of you to learn your parts by our next practice.”

 

Kurt raised his hand. “Will we be trying out for leads next practice, then?”

 

Adam cleared his throat and handed Kurt a set of sheet music. “Well … the group is Adam’s Apples, Kurt … I’d anticipated singing all the leads …”

 

Kurt’s heart sank. _Here we go again. Second banana in show choir yet again._

 

“... but maybe you’re right,” Adam finished, with a thoughtful nod and a sly wink. 

 

Kurt noticed the other Apples looking at each other, seemingly annoyed. 

 

Still holding Kurt’s gaze, Adam continued, “I’ll tell you what. The set list has my signature song, ‘Baby Got Back,’ of course. But you’ll see from your sheet music, that I’ve also done acoustic versions of ‘Bust a Move’ by Young MC, and ‘It Takes Two’ by Rob Base. You all may submit a rearranged version of one of those two songs, reworking it as a duet backed by the rest of the choir, and submit it to me by e-mail by tomorrow night. I’ll select the best three submissions, and we’ll have a sing-off at the next meeting. Whoever I feel did the best job, will get the duet spot. Fair enough?”

 

Kurt felt like he was bursting with excitement. _A chance for a lead vocal in our first competition. Finally! I’ll get right to work on it._

 

Kurt began gathering up his messenger bag, stashing the music in the outside pocket, when Adam called out again, “Oh, by the way, all … with Sectionals so close, we can’t rely on weekly practices. We’ll have practice three times a week, attendance mandatory. See you all on Monday, 4:00.”

 

As the others filed out of the rehearsal hall, Kurt stood frozen in place. When they were alone in the room, Adam looked up and smiled. “Hey. Still here? You’re usually out of here so fast it’s like you got shot out of a cannon.”

 

“My cheerleading coach tried that a few times, but never succeeded,” Kurt remarked. 

 

Adam laughed, and then subsided when Kurt looked at him, eyebrow raised. “I wasn’t joking, I’m sorry to say.”

 

“Wow. You must tell me more about this high school of yours. Listen … do you want to get a cup of coffee or something? It’s still early.”

 

“Well, I - actually, I needed to talk to you privately about the audition.”

 

“Sure. What’s up, buttercup?” Adam asked, leaning on his desk and crossing his arms.

 

“I - - I can’t make it to practice Monday,” Kurt blurted out. “I have … an appointment.”

 

Adam looked at him intently. “Oh. An audition?”

 

Kurt felt his face heating up. “No. It’s a doctor’s appointment, actually.”

 

Adam paused and then reached out, squeezing Kurt’s arm lightly. “Kurt, you had a doctor’s appointment last week. I don’t mean to pry; but is everything all right?”

 

Pulling back out of Adam’s grip, Kurt shook his head, already regretting he’d said that much. “I’d rather not discuss it, but it’s nothing serious or life-threatening or anything like that. Don’t worry, Adam. Really. I’m fine.”

 

“So … change the appointment, then. There’s still time, it’s only Thursday, I’m sure you can reschedule it.”

 

“I don’t think I can, though,” Kurt said reluctantly. That was the day of his fetal anatomy ultrasound. He and Blaine were both looking forward to it so much, and it was important.

 

Adam sighed and went around the desk, picking up his knapsack. “Kurt, look. I can’t start making excuses for you even if you are a friend. You have to realize we’re up against some major competition at Sectionals, as tough as any we’ll see at Regionals or even Nationals.”

 

“I know, but this appointment is kind of important,” Kurt tried to explain. “I’d rather not miss it … but … if it’s that big of a deal, I guess I can come straight back here afterwards. I’d be a little late, but is that okay?”

 

Adam paused. “Yeah, I’ll overlook it on one condition. That you treat me to coffee?”

 

Kurt gulped and looked at the clock on the wall over Adam’s head. If he lingered over coffee with Adam, he’d be late to the hospital to see Blaine … but … he nodded. “Sure. Just … gimme a minute, okay?”

 

“Sure,” Adam said, smiling broadly, as Kurt tapped out a text to Blaine. _I’m stuck @ thing for Apples c u asap._ He shoved the phone in his pocket with a guilty twinge and followed Adam out of the room.

 

* * * * *

 

 

Blaine reached up from his wheelchair beside Kurt’s exam table to take Kurt’s hand. “You okay, Kurt? You seem so tense.” He squeezed Kurt’s hand. “I know you’re not used to all this,” he murmured, nodding at the transducer running through the gel over Kurt’s belly.

 

Kurt grimaced and squirmed slightly in his paper gown in the cold room. “I definitely have a new appreciation for what pregnant ladies go through. Quinn would be happy to see me like this, I guess.” 

 

Dr. Shelley hooted. “This? This is nothing. Try getting a speculum jammed up in your nether regions and cranked open. Or passing an eight-pound human through there. Neither of which you two will have to do.” She patted Kurt on the abdomen, and glanced over at Dr. Ryan. “Everything looks fantastic, Kurt. Right on schedule. And your amnio results are back - also 100% normal.”

 

Kurt let out the breath he’d been holding, and let the relief surge through him. On some level, he had feared that the baby might have wings or a tail, or some other magical appendage, given its mystical origins. Or, even worse, that … that it would be unhealthy in some way. It just seemed impossible, as a pregnant man, that things could still be normal for his baby. He struggled to hold back tears, looking at the delicate profile on the screen. Terror was still there, hiding in the far reaches of his heart, terror at the freakish circumstances, at the immense responsibility and change ahead, at the physical changes still to come. But at the moment, the doctor’s reassurances that little Baby Hummel was developing normally helped soothe those fears. He studied the baby’s features, and pointed at the screen with a shaky hand.

 

“I think it has my nose,” he whispered. “And your chin, what do you think?” 

 

Blaine chuckled warmly. “I think it’s beautiful. Just like you.” Kurt turned to smile into Blaine’s face. 

 

“Do you boys want to know the sex?”

 

Kurt looked at Blaine again. He had wanted to save the sex of this baby as a surprise, but he knew Blaine was dying to know. And he supposed it would be fun to know. For clothing and decorating purposes. “Okay, if you can tell for sure,” he gave in. Blaine squeaked excitedly.

 

“It’s definitely another baby girl … and there’s another aspect we can tell you from the amnio. Something fascinating, actually, if you’d like to know more details,” Dr. Ryan said, clearly bursting to tell them something. “Something beyond medical comprehension, actually.”

 

Kurt’s heart dropped. _Oh no. There’s something weird going on … that can’t be good …_

He swallowed hard and clutched Blaine’s hand against his heart. “What is it?” he croaked.

 

Dr. Ryan was all excited smiles, bouncing slightly on his feet, as he scanned a printed sheet of lab results. “The DNA is entirely, 100% identical with Blaine’s baby,” Dr. Ryan announced. “It’s … well, everything about this situation is entirely astonishing, but this … well, there’s no scientific explanation for how you two have identical twins growing in separate pseudo-uteruses. Not that there’s a scientific explanation for any of this.”

 

“That’s because of ... magic. We’re magic,” Blaine said, his face and voice tranquil. Kurt smothered a chuckle. 

 

“Yeah, that’s one way to describe it, I guess,” Kurt said, snarky because of the relief that it wasn’t anything bad. In fact, it’s … adorable. I need to start planning coordinating outfits. _Not matching, no, no, that would be tacky, but complementary and baby-chic. And names. We can pick the second name now._

 

“Something for the scrapbook, Blaine,” Dr. Shelley said brightly. She held out a sheet of still shots from the ultrasound, and Blaine took them eagerly. 

 

“Can I have the labs too?” Blaine asked, and Dr. Ryan indulgently handed him a copy. Blaine slipped all the documents into the file folder he was maintaining for their pregnancy records, and scribbled some notes into a journal he had been keeping. Kurt doubted Blaine would have time for all this memorabilia once the babies arrived, but right now his formerly energetic, over-scheduled husband desperately needed projects to keep his mind occupied during the long, boring days in his hospital bed.

 

Kurt smiled at the screen a final time, and then turned back to the doctors. “Is that it for this visit, then? Is there anything else I need to do?” He slipped off the table, holding the edges of his gown together, and looked anxiously at the doctors gathering up their materials. 

 

“Not a thing; everything in your case is going perfectly, Kurt. Make sure to keep getting enough rest, eating right, and taking your vitamins,” Dr. Shelley said. “Time for you to get back to your room, now, Blaine. You’ve been sitting up long enough.”

 

“Can we stay in here and look at the screen a while?” Blaine wheedled. “Please? I’ll stay in my wheelchair.”

 

Dr. Ryan frowned. “Blaine, we’ll leave the image up for a minute while Kurt gets dressed, but then we’ll send in an aide to get you and take you back to your room. Your blood pressures were up a little bit as it was today, you need to get back on your monitor and lie on your side. Break time is over.” 

 

Blaine’s face clouded a little at the doctor’s tone. “Ugh, okay, okay. Quite a vacation, coming down the hallway in the hospital,” he sulked. 

 

“They’re just watching out for you, Blaine. We all just want you healthy. Listen, I’ll take you back to the room in a minute, is that okay, Dr. Ryan?” Kurt asked, running a hand over Blaine’s shiny-smooth hair, still impeccably slicked back even in the hospital.

 

“Okay, but no monkey business,” Dr. Ryan said, fixing them with a pointed, stern glare. 

 

Kurt felt his cheeks burning, and his own irritation rising. “We haven’t done anything inappropriate since that one time. We don’t need to keep getting lectured about it. I’ll take my husband back to his room in five minutes, once I’m dressed.”

 

“Okay, then. Congratulations, boys. See you next week for your appointment, Kurt,” Dr. Shelley said, tugging on Dr. Ryan’s sleeve and giving them a sympathetic look.

 

Kurt shut the door behind the doctors. Turning he saw Blaine’s face set in a pout, and sighed. He shrugged out of his gown and smiled slightly when he saw Blaine watching, clearly distracted from his annoyance and very, very interested. He took his time slipping on his clothes, enjoying Blaine’s eyes on him, even if he couldn’t take things any further. So few people admired him anymore.

 

“I don’t know how you stand it, Blaine. Really. Being told what to do all the time, when to do it, getting bossed within an inch of your life …”

 

“Well, at least I have some time with my handsome husband, even if I have to spend it in my room. You look really good,” Blaine said, admiring and reaching out to run a hand over Kurt’s back as he picked up his shirt. “Really good.”

 

Kurt slapped Blaine’s hand away playfully. “You do too. I miss you … I miss our ‘alone time’ …”. He buttoned his shirt and leaned over, placing a lingering kiss on Blaine’s upturned mouth. “Um … but the thing is … I can take you to your room, but I can’t stay long. I have a club meeting.” Kurt said. He buttoned his blazer, and reached for the handles of Blaine’s wheelchair. 

 

Blaine leaned back in the chair, picking his feet up to set them on the rest, and Kurt maneuvered it out the exam room door. “Club meeting? You mean … Adam’s Apples, I guess?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Kurt swung the wheelchair to turn it into Blaine’s room. “What do you mean, _Oh?_ ”

 

“Well … I thought that was on Thursdays. When I’m singing with the kids. This is Monday - it’s usually ‘us time’.”

 

Kurt parked the wheelchair and Blaine stood up slowly, and transferred to the bed. 

 

“I know, but Sectionals is in three weeks. Adam’s got us practicing more to get ready, and he picked me to audition for a duet today. I spent a lot of time rearranging “It Takes Two” and practicing my part in it. If I don’t show up, somebody else will get it.”

 

“The Young MC song? Who’s doing the other part of the duet?”

 

Kurt shrugged. “Adam. It’s his group, so he’s the lead singer. Kind of like you dominated the Warblers, remember?” he finished, trying for a teasing, light tone.

 

“Oh.” 

 

Kurt swallowed hard. “If - if you don’t want me to go, I won’t, but …” he sighed and helped pull the sheet and blanket up over a very quiet Blaine. “It’s just … I’m not fitting in very well at NYADA, Blaine. The truth is, the Apples are really important to me, and I don’t want to miss practice and the audition today. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth.” 

 

He took a breath and avoided Blaine’s eyes a moment, picking at the coarse hospital blanket and waiting for Blaine’s answer.

 

Blaine turned toward the wall, onto his side as the doctors had instructed him would help keep his blood pressure low. “So go.”

 

Kurt let out another sigh. “Thanks for understanding, honey - - but, you’re okay with it, right?” Kurt stroked Blaine’s turned shoulder.

 

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” Blaine’s voice came back over his shoulder. There was a slight quiver in his voice, but he swallowed and continued, his voice steady this time. “You know, I’m a little tired anyway.” He reached for the light cord and pulled it, shutting off the light and putting an end to the conversation.

 

“Blaine, talk to me. If you’re not okay with me leaving or trying out for a duet, then just say so. We have to talk about stuff like that.”

 

Blaine kept his back turned. “I want you to go. In fact, I’m starting to get a little bit of a headache, and I’m going to sleep anyway. No need for you to stay just to watch me sleep.”

 

“If you’re sure, then. I’ll tell the nurse about your headache … if you need me, call me, okay?”

Kurt kissed Blaine on the cheek and backed out of the room slowly, in case Blaine changed his mind and asked him to stay. But he didn’t.

 

Kurt walked slowly down the hallway. The guilt was rising up, giving him a tightening feeling in his throat, but he pushed it back down. There was no reason to feel guilty. _If Blaine weren’t okay with me going, then he would have said so. Or he should, anyway. I’m not a mind-reader. And I’m entitled to a life, aren’t I? I shouldn’t have to feel bad about living it. If I miss this practice to stay with Blaine, I won’t get to audition for a duet part, and I’ll be just swaying in the background of another show choir. I’m not doing anything wrong!_

 

Kurt sighed, pushing the elevator button, because no matter how much he tried to convince himself … no matter how much Blaine had said it was okay … it _felt_ wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking suggestions for names for Kurt's baby! Remember, Blaine's baby is Ariadne Anna. :)


	22. Revelations

The other students rushed by Kurt like a river around a stone, as he struggled up the stairs to his improv class. The last class of the day, thankfully, and all he could hope for was that he wouldn’t get called on today. He was exhausted, and out of breath from the climb up the stairs. He had to stop to visit the bathroom on the way from his last class, and he nearly was late, but slid into his seat just in time, finding a seat in the very back and hoping for the best.

 

Professor Elaine Goetz was a caustic, sarcastic middle-aged woman in long, flowing harem pants and an oversized, rumpled purple blouse, bangle-bracelets dangling and clinking on her wrists. She shook them out as she flipped on a projector, shining bullet points about the proud history of improv theater, and commenced riffing on them at length.

 

Kurt leaned his head on his hand as he jotted down notes, grateful that there would be at least some lecture portion to the class today. But soon even note-taking was laborious, and he laid his pen down and shut his eyes, just for a moment. His writing hand slipped under the desk and he rested it on his belly, feeling around for his daughter’s kicks. Now that he accepted her as a reality, he liked to check frequently to make sure she was still moving. 

 

He pressed around his belly, frowning. She was probably sleeping. Nothing to worry about. After a moment of pressing his hand against his sweatshirt without finding any movement, he cautiously drew his leather messenger bag up from the floor and retrieved a juice box. Uncapping it, he drank a few long swallows quietly, then ran his hand over his belly again. He was relieved to feel the baby rouse herself in response to the sugary drink, and give him a resounding flurry of kicks. Smiling, he let his eyes drop shut again, and just enjoyed the sensation, the knowledge that even as he sat here doing nothing, a tiny life was being formed. 

 

“Mr. Hummel!” Professor Goetz shouted from beside him. 

 

He squeezed the juice box involuntarily, sending a geyser of juice all over his hand and notebook. “Yes - - yes, Professor?” he squeaked, grabbing a napkin from his bag and wiping up the juice.

 

“I’m afraid it isn’t snacktime yet, Mr. Hummel. If you’re done cleaning up after yourself, please join your fellow performers for this exercise as I just asked you - - twice.”

 

Kurt scurried to the front of the room, where Adam Crawford and Rachel were already waiting, along with Paul and Jason, two catty young freshmen who had attached themselves to Rachel’s coattails early on and who had nothing but disdain for him. Adam and Rachel looked sympathetically at him, but as he turned to face the class, he knew that most of them shared Paul and Jason’s opinion of him. He was the class loser, a schlub, as Mr. Bernstein at his favorite kosher deli might say, and if they knew the real reason for his fat gut and lack of stamina and attention, he'd be the class freak on top of that. 

 

He limped through the exercise, with Adam and Rachel throwing him broad clues sufficient to have a vague idea of what the improv assignment was, and picking up the great majority of th ework, but he was shaky and tired, and discouraged by his classmates’ snickers and eye-rolling.

 

“That’ll do, Mr. Hummel. Sit down, please, and see me after class.”

 

“Yes, Professor,” Kurt whispered, fighting back treacherous tears and feeling his face heat up. He crept back to his seat and fought the afternoon drowsiness as best he could for the remainder of the class.

 

Finally, the professor ended the class. Rachel and Adam sent him covertly supportive glances as they filed out. 

 

Professor Goetz leveled her gaze at him a long moment before speaking. “I know you have special accommodations from Madame Tibideaux, but those allowances will only take you so far. I expect you to pay attention in this class, be prepared, and perform adequately; and today, you have failed on all counts.”

 

Kurt bit his lip and looked away, anger rising up in him. Professor Goetz was single, had no children, nobody but herself to worry about. She had no idea what he was going through. How many nights he lay awake worried about Blaine and their babies, and what was ahead for them, then got up early to walk on swollen feet to see his bedridden husband at the hospital. Then to hours of the toughest classes he’d ever had in his life. Nothing he’d done at McKinley had prepared him for this exclusive college, especially not Mr. Schue’s feel-good, loopy “lessons” about the Bee Gees or the Eagles or Journey and how they related to their life in the 21st century. Which was not at all. 

 

“Mr. Hummel? Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

 

“No, ma’am,” Kurt muttered through gritted teeth. Taking a sharp breath in, he said more smoothly, “Just … I apologize for my inattention today. Won’t happen again.”

 

Kurt kept his head up high while walking out of the classroom, acutely aware of the other students milling about the hallways. Adam and Rachel were waiting across the hallway. He deliberately hooked a sharp left and headed for the stairs, trying to avoid their sympathetic questions, but they caught up with him, falling into step on either side.

“So what’d Goetz say, Kurt? Are you in trouble?” Adam ventured. 

“She just said to stay awake in class. Which she had every right to.” 

Rachel’s piercing voice piped up, seeming to echo throughout the stairwell, “But you’re doing your best! It’s not your fault that –“

“Rachel!’ Kurt exploded, giving her a warning look, and she subsided, dropping her chin to rest on the books clutched against her chest.

They rounded a corner in the stairwell in silence, before Adam clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Well, screw Goetz anyway, Kurt. How about grabbing a little dinner, maybe a drink? Take your mind off it? C’mon, it’s Friday. Let’s celebrate.”

Kurt gritted his teeth. He’d told Adam several times that he didn’t drink, but Adam always forgot and kept asking him to Callbacks or one of the other NYADA bars. “Not tonight. I think that was a warning sign I need to get more rest, so I’m going to - -“ he paused. He was actually going to the hospital cafeteria to buy a healthy, if boring, dinner and take it up to his pregnant husband’s room, to eat while Blaine had his DASH diet meal from a tray. Like he did every night. Then he was going to go home and watch TV and go to sleep. Alone.

“I’m going home,” he finished dully. Rachel slipped her arm through his and squeezed it sympathetically.

"I can come by and watch Homeland with you if you'd like,” she offered. “Finn has a late class, so we're going with Brody and some other people to Callbacks late.”

“Hey, Homeland kinda sounds like fun,” Adam said hopefully. “Mind if I join you? What dorm are you in, Kurt? You’ve never said.”

Kurt pressed Rachel’s arm firmly by way of warning. 

“Actually, I’m going to bed early tonight. So thanks, Rachel, but I have to go.” He dropped Rachel’s arm and started walking toward the exit. As he reached it, he saw that it was already dark outside, with the days getting shorter, and the office workers were on their way home for the day, rushing by shoulder-to-shoulder in that furiously rushed way New Yorkers had. Kurt felt tired looking at them and shut his eyes, leaning against the wall a moment. He hated battling his way through the crowds this time of the day. Adam nudged his arm.

“Listen, Kurt,” he said earnestly. “I … I get the feeling that I’ve offended you somehow. If I’ve done something wrong, just tell me.”

Kurt was acutely aware of Rachel hovering in the background of the conversation. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he drew a deep breath. “You haven’t offended me. I’m just tired, okay? I’m not up to hanging at a bar tonight. You saw what happened in class.”

“Yeah, I saw. I know you don’t like to talk about yourself, Kurt, but … what’s wrong? Why are you always tired?”

Adam’s eyes were soft and kind, his face friendly and scrunchy under his tousled blond hair and beanie. He had such a nice face, it made Kurt want to confide in him, to tell him everything. It would be a relief not to have to hide with everyone at school, and to have a friend to really talk to besides his husband, his brother, and his sister-in-law. But something held him back. He just couldn’t take the chance that Adam would think he was crazy, or that he would be overwhelmed by Kurt’s situation and not want to be friends at all anymore.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” he finally answered. 

“I worry about you, you know,” Adam said softly. He reached for Kurt’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, and Kurt looked down, embarrassed, while freeing his hand. “You spend all your time alone. You never do anything fun. I’d just like to see you relax and hang out once in a while.”

“I’d like that too, but between school and … and the Apples … “

Adam sighed. “I know it’s been busy. But … I’ve been meaning to mention … with you winning the duet spot, we really should get in some extra singing practice on top of the regular rehearsal. That way we can focus on the choreography and group harmonies in practice. I think we ought to meet at school tomorrow, say around 11:30 so you can sleep in, and practice for an hour or two. Then I’ll treat you to some lunch at a great British-owned pub I know to make up for making you practice on a Saturday. It’ll be fun.”

Kurt hesitated, and Adam nudged him with his shoulder. “C’mon. We need the practice, and you need a little fun. Is it a date?”

Rachel widened her eyes over Adam’s shoulder and Kurt flushed. 

“Well, I’ll meet you for practice, anyway,” he murmured. “We’ll see about … about lunch.”

“Great. Seeya, Kurt. Bye, Rachel,” Adam tossed over his shoulder, before nipping away toward the subway station.

Rachel materialized beside him as he watched Adam bound off. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to see Blaine and then I’m going home.” He started trudging in the direction of the hospital, when Rachel’s voice floated after him.

“Are you going to tell Blaine about Adam?”

He whirled around and marched back up to her. “Yes, I’ll tell him I have a special duet practice tomorrow. That’s all there is to tell. Nothing’s going on, Rachel, so quit insinuating otherwise!”

Rachel looked at him steadily, her big brown eyes grave. “That guy likes you, Kurt. He likes you and you’re not telling him you’re beyond taken, you’re married and about to be a father. What’s that about, if it’s totally innocent?”

“You’re being ridiculous. He’s just a friend,” Kurt spluttered. “The only friend I’ve made here. And I’m not telling him because I know once he finds out, he won’t be. Okay?”

“If he won’t be your friend when he finds out, then he isn’t your real friend anyway.” Rachel shrugged. “I think you’re selling him short. Give him a chance and tell him tomorrow. You can’t put it off forever, anyway, right?”

“I know, but … once I tell him, it’ll change everything. It’ll make it real - - and - -“

Rachel smiled sadly. “Kurt, it already is real. Whether you face it or not.”

 

~ * ~

“What’s for dinner tonight?” Kurt asked idly, as Blaine removed the gray plastic lid from his plate and set it, dripping with condensation, on the side of his tray. The steam reached him and he recoiled slightly. “Oh. Cod again.”

“And steamed broccoli,” Blaine said glumly. “Yay.” He picked up his fork and started eating without enthusiasm. “It’s good for baby, though. That’s what’s important.” He looked pointedly at the meatball parmigiana sub Kurt was wolfing down from the cafeteria.

“It’s got protein!” Kurt protested through a mouthful of sub. “It’s not that bad!”

“Ah, I’m just jealous,” Blaine admitted. “When Ari’s born, I intend to celebrate with a foot-long sub. Actually, I’ll have one in each hand.”

“Sexy,” Kurt said, popping open a chocolate milk. “The two of us will be quite a sight in our mom jeans.”

Blaine laughed. “That we will, Mom.” He held out his skim milk and they clinked cups. After taking a sip, he asked, “So, how’s school going?”

Kurt shrugged. 

“What about the social life? It’s Friday, are the other kids going to Callbacks tonight?”

“Rachel and Finn, and Brody are. And some of Rachel’s friends.”

Blaine eyed him. “Well, are you going?” he asked pointedly. “You might as well. In a few short weeks, we’re going to be pretty tied down. I know you can’t drink, but you could sing and hang out. Get to know your classmates a little.”

“I’m actually kind of tired out,” Kurt said slowly, dropping the tin foil from his sandwich on Blaine’s tray. “It’s all kind of catching up with me. The pregnancy, school.”

“Spending so much time visiting me?” Blaine asked. He looked guilt-stricken. “Kurt, is that it? Is that why you never socialize?”

Kurt shook his head, reaching for his husband’s hand. “There’s nobody I’d rather spend time with. And you need me.”

Blaine looked so relieved and pleased at the half-truth that Kurt was glad he hadn’t admitted … that the twice-a-day long visits on top of school was getting difficult for him, that he was eight months pregnant too and needed a break sometimes. He loved Blaine so much, but it was getting exhausting. But how could he tell him that? Blaine had nothing to look forward to all day except television, studying, and visits from Kurt, Finn or Rachel. He had it ten times worse. He smiled brightly at Blaine, swallowing down the guilt.

“Hey, listen. I’ve been thinking about names for the baby I’m carrying. Since you pulled an executive decision and named that one,” he said, gesturing toward Blaine’s belly.

“Ooh. Do tell.”

Kurt pulled out his phone, where he’d been keeping a running list. “Well, I think it should coordinate with what you’re doing. You know, the Greek goddess name first, then your mom’s name as the middle name?”

“Sure, but you have to run it by me to make sure you’re not picking someone who’s archenemies with Ariadne.”

“You’re not serious.”

Blaine’s eyes were big as saucers. “Let me put it in terms you’ll understand. Let’s say we were on Housewives, right? What do you think Nene would do if we named one of our twins after her, and the other after, say, Cynthia? Or Claudia - - or - -”

Kurt set his phone down. “I think you’re officially watching too much television now. Are you ready to discuss this seriously?”

“I am serious, Kurt! We’re in a very - -“ he dropped his voice to a whisper, glancing upwards. “Very delicate position. We’ve attracted the attention of a goddess, and we have to make sure to keep her appeased.”

“Sure,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes. “Anywho, I liked your alliteration and the reference to Greek mythology and to your mom. So.” He looked up. “My mom’s name was Penelope. How about Phoebe Penelope?”

Blaine grimaced. “P.P. Hummel?”

“Oh … yeah,” Kurt said, crestfallen. “I guess the initials are a little … not so great.”

“Hey, I like the names, just I’m not sure about them together like that,” Blaine said. He tapped his chin with his finger, thinking. “You know, Penelope is a Greek mythological figure too. The wife of Odysseus. She had a few run-ins with Athena, but I don’t think Ariadne had any beefs with her. How about using that for the first name?”

“Maybe …Carole for the middle name, then?” Kurt mused. “It’s not alliterative, but …”

“Penelope Carole. I like it. It honors both your moms, and it’s a nod to Greece. And Penny is a pretty cute nickname.” Blaine raised his eyebrows. “Do we have a winner?”

“I think so. My dad and Carole will be happy about it. And it leaves Carol as a first name for any daughters Finn and Rachel have. Okay, let’s make that the name … and we’ll save it for a surprise for my Dad and everybody else, deal?” He yawned widely.

“Deal … but … listen, you’d better head home and get some rest, honey. You’re looking really tired.”

“It’s the meatball sub hitting my blood stream, but yeah. I’m heading out. I have … I have some stuff to do for school tomorrow, so I’ll be in tomorrow afternoon, okay?”

“Okay. Call me when you get in. I worry about you.”

Kurt chuckled and leaned over to kiss Blaine good-night. “Same here. Love you.”

~ * ~

Walking down the sidewalk outside the NYADA building the next morning, Kurt caught sight of Adam leaning against the wall. He waved a greeting and hurried a little faster.

“Hey, Kurt! You made it!” Adam said brightly. He slipped his junior faculty card into the slot in the front door at NYADA and they were buzzed in. “I hope you got a good night’s sleep last night.”

“I’m feeling a lot better than I was yesterday,” Kurt admitted. “A bit of a backache, but … not so tired. Hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Not to worry. I already went upstairs to set everything up.”

Kurt quirked his eyebrow at Adam. “What’s to set up? We’re just singing one song.”

“Well, you know. Our music, costumes, the lot of it.” Adam reached the door to the rehearsal space and pulled it open, gesturing for Kurt to go inside with a flourish. Kurt looked at him quizzically and then went in.

“Where’s the lights?” he asked. “It’s pretty dim in here - -“ the words died on his lips. There was a picnic lunch spread out on the floor, along with wine, flowers, and even candles which Adam was now busily lighting. And there was soft music playing.

“Adam … I … I came here to practice,” Kurt mumbled. 

“We’ll get to it. But why work on an empty stomach? C’mon and sit down and have some tapenade and wine.” Adam took the lid off a plastic container and reached for a box of crackers. “Here, I’ll fix you a plate. Maybe you can open the wine?”

“Adam. I may be way off on this, and if I am, I apologize. But this looks like a date, not a practice session. And …” he sighed. “And there’s something I should have told you a long time ago.” He pulled the chain up from under his shirt and held out the wedding ring dangling from it.

“I’m married. And … we’re expecting twins.”

Adam froze with a cracker half-smeared with tapenade in one hand, and a small knife in the other. 

“I know I might have unintentionally misled you, but - -“

“Misled? Oh, yeah, you failed to mention you’re straight, let alone married, when we joined the Gay-Straight Student Alliance together. You led me on to get me to give you the duet, didn’t you? You even faked being gay? How low is that?” Dropping the cracker and paste back into the plastic tub, Adam angrily blew out the candles. 

“Hey! I’m gay!” Kurt protested indignantly. “I just didn’t want anybody to know I’m married. Not because I was deliberately trying to lead you on. It – It was - - it was because - -“

“Oh my god. You’re married, but … she doesn’t know you’re gay? What - - how - -?”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that. I’m married to a wonderful man. But he’s in the hospital. Because he’s pregnant.”

There was a long pause. “So … he’s a trans man?” Adam guessed, confused. “Why am I only hearing all this now?”

Kurt ran his hand into his hair, trying to figure out how to explain. 

Adam was getting angry, finally, and the anger was overwhelming even the confusion in his handsome face. “You know what? Save the gory details, Hummel.” He jumped up. “You led me to believe you were available. You knew I liked you, and you lied to me, led me on! You can’t pretend you didn’t do this on purpose!”

“No! I had no idea you liked me like that! I thought we were in the club together, and were friends. I like you a lot as a friend, but Blaine, my husband … he has my heart. Please understand and still be friends?”

“The bloody hell I will,” Adam snapped. He was hurling the picnic fixings into a basket. “Bloody friends? Friends don’t lie to each other! Or keep secrets! We’re not friends. And … and you’re not an Apple, either!” he snapped. “You’re out of the group.”

Kurt watched, his heart racing, as Adam slammed the lid on the basket and picked it up, heading for the door. He raced around and blocked him. “Listen. Adam. I’m sorry, I am. I understand if you can’t be friends now, or if you don’t want me in the group. But … please. Please don’t tell anybody about this.”

Adam hurled open the door to the rehearsal space and stormed out. Kurt followed him to the top of the stairs, calling out desperately. “Adam, wait! Please! Nobody knows about this and we aren’t ready for people to know,” he said, catching him. “It’s not public knowledge. I only confided in you because I did think you were my friend. It’s not something I want getting out – the publicity - -“

“Screw you, Kurt,” Adam shouted, and Kurt dropped back a few paces. He watched Adam stomp down the stairs, and sighed, sitting down in a defeated heap on the top step. _Well, that went well. I’m kicked out of the least popular club in school. My one New York friend hates me now. And I didn’t even get lunch out of it._

Kurt got up wearily, and started down the stairs, when a searing pain rose from his very core through his belly, doubling him over. He gripped the handrail, trying to stay upright on trembling legs, but the pain was unlike any he’d ever experienced. He panicked, unable to catch his breath, and his knees buckled out from under him, sending him tumbling down the steps into a heap in the stairwell, halfway between floors. He lay at the bottom of the stairs, helpless as the pain rose up like a wave, and he was like a piece of driftwood tossed in the vast ocean of that pain. He couldn’t see through the clenching, tearing agony of it, and it held him captive like an animal in a trap for long, terrifying moments that stretched into minutes, before finally subsiding. He tried to sit up, becoming uncomfortably aware that something had soaked his underwear and slacks, and managed to somehow haul himself up and look. _Did I wet myself?_ There was a puddle of clear, sticky fluid underneath him, with no ammonia-like smell of urine. He panicked, and scrabbled for his phone in his jacket pocket, yanking it out and turning it on. As he’d promised Blaine, he kept it with him at all times, fully charged, and with trembling fingers he started to enter 911. He could sense the pressure, the blinding pain rising again already … and as it overwhelmed him again, his last coherent thought was that there were no reception bars here in the concrete, windowless stairwell of his school, closed on a Saturday; that no one knew where he was; and how broken-hearted Blaine would be if no one could find him in time.


	23. Contractions

The pediatric orthopedic ward erupted in cheers, the little patients clapping as best they could with their tiny casts and IV lines, shouting and calling out requests in piping, sweet voices. Blaine loved it. He loved an audience, he loved children, and he was discovering that nothing was more rewarding than performing his music for little kids. He couldn’t wait until his little Penny and Ari were born and he could sing to them. He already was singing and playing music for Ari all day, determined that she would know his voice already when she was born. He swore to an amused Kurt that Ari was dancing already in time with the music he played. 

As the tots clamored for “one more, please, Blaine!” he reflected yet again, as he had more and more often lately, that maybe a career in teaching music would be a good idea. He could spend his days doing what he enjoyed doing best: share his love of music with children. Well. What he enjoyed doing second best. But nobody would pay him to spend …alone time… with his handsome husband. And even better, he would be able to get his teaching degree and become certified as a teacher just in time for Ari and Penny to enter kindergarten, and then his schedule would coincide with theirs. Summers off with his babies … being able to be there for them when they got off their bus together. Yes, he was almost certain that was what he wanted. Kurt was still insisting that he try out for NYADA, that he should be a performer, but … 

“Another song, Blaine! Another!” the little girl next to his wheelchair shrieked, waving her pink cast in the air and hopping up and down.

“Okay, okay! How about a little Katy Perry?” he offered, chuckling and gently strumming the opening chords to his most recent, child-friendly version of “Teenage Dream”. With all the time he had to spend in bed, learning to play guitar better had been a godsend and helped keep him sane, and to switch things up with his hospital performances. At the sound, the crowd of children settled down immediately, their eyes shining up at him expectantly. 

“Before you met me, I was all right,” he started, thinking of Kurt, his darling, sweet Kurt, and the way he’d first flirted with him through these very lyrics. He smiled happily to himself at the thought, when suddenly, he was seized with a violent contraction, so painful he lost his grip on his guitar and it hit the tiled floor with a musical clatter. 

Nurse Joan, who’d brought him down from the labor and delivery unit, was at his side at a moment, and in another moment, he was being lifted onto a gurney, still wracked with pain. Dimly, he searched his memory for the advice from the Lamaze videos he had watched, again to Kurt’s vast amusement.

_“Really? Ina Mae’s Guide to a Smart Woman’s Natural Birth? Are you that bored?” Kurt hooted. “You’re not going natural for this birth, Blaine, remember? You won’t need to breathe or count!”_

_Blaine gave him an indignant glance. “It never hurts to be prepared.”_

_Kurt shook his head fondly. “Okay, Boy Scout, whatever you say.”_

Blaine centered himself, and cleared his mind, breathing deeply. He managed to ride out the contraction with the breathing instructions he had committed to memory, and was relieved when after a minute and a half, the excruciating spasm of pain subsided. He realized with a start that he being wheeled into an elevator. 

The gurney was wheeled into position and a friendly face leaned over his, silhouetted by the lights at the roof of the elevator. “Keep calm, Blaine,” Nurse Joan said soothingly. “We’ve paged your doctors. Looks like it’s almost time to meet baby Ari!”

The elevator pinged for the obstetrical floor, and he was being wheeled down the hallway past his room, and he saw Dr. Shelley and Dr. Ryan running to meet him, just as another contraction started building. Everything was speeding up around him, getting louder and more frantic, and he lost track of what was happening as he focused inward, trying to withstand the pain. When he returned to his senses, he felt a warm liquid seeping through the jeans he’d worn to visit the children’s ward. “I – something’s leaking,” he whispered, clutching Dr. Shelley’s hand. “Something’s happening - - “  
“Just relax, Blaine, you’re doing fine,” she reassured him. “If it’s labor, it’s fine - - you’re 36 weeks, and the baby’s lungs are mature. We’ll just do a quick sonogram to see what’s going on.” They wheeled him into the sonogram room.  
Blaine nodded, then clenched down involuntarily on her hand as another pain shot through him, up through his entire abdomen. The nurses quickly undressed him, and he was helped back into a hospital gown. He blinked, and through blurred eyes saw Dr. Ryan take a swab of the fluid from where it was pooled on his plastic sheet, then run over to the corner of the room, sitting down at a microscope.

“Okay, time for the gel,” Dr. Shelley said, moving quickly, and soon the woosh-woosh sound Blaine was so familiar with, filled the room.

“It’s amniotic fluid,” Dr. Ryan called from the corner. 

“There’s no fluid left in the sac,” Dr. Shelley said. “Blaine, it’s time. We’re going to prep you for the surgery. Call for the OR team,” she directed Nurse Joan, who ran out excitedly.

Blaine tried to respond, tried to tell them to call Kurt, but another contraction hit him like a freight train, taking his breath away. He clutched at Dr. Shelley’s sleeve, pleading silently with his eyes and pointing feebly toward his coat pocket for his phone. She smoothed his hair back from his already sweaty forehead. “You want Kurt, don’t you?” she said kindly. “I’ve got him on speed dial. I’ll let him know it’s time, but we have to take you in as soon as the OR’s ready, honey. If he gets here in time, that’s great, but I’d rather not wait now that your water’s broken.” She pulled the phone from her pocket and started dialing.

The tide of pain slowly retreated, and Blaine gasped, “Let me talk to him?”

Dr. Shelley frowned. “Kurt, it’s Dr. Shelley,” she said, and Blaine wiped his face weakly. “Blaine’s water just broke, and I’m getting him prepped for surgery. Please give us a call and let us know when you can get here. We expect to start the procedure in a half hour or less, so … we’ll see you as soon as you can get here. Okay.”

She hung up and smiled. “Went to voice mail. Let’s get your belly prepped for the incision, and some antibiotics in your IV. The anesthesiologist will be in to talk to you, and then we’ll be good to go.”

“He - - he didn’t pick up?” Blaine said, worriedly. “That’s not like him. He - - he’s always so good about picking up - - he knows it could happen any time. Wait - - I need to wait for him. I don’t want to go into surgery until - - oh, God, it’s - - it’s starting again …” he tried to keep his head, keep breathing short, shallow puffs of breath as the pain rose and rose within him. But he couldn’t control the panic that was overtaking him about his husband, who had promised to always answer the phone if he or one of their doctors called, and who always had kept that promise before this. What was keeping him from picking up? Why wasn’t he calling back right away, like he always, always did, no matter what? He couldn’t go under anesthesia without seeing Kurt. He needed Kurt here. He needed to know Kurt was all right too.

The staff bustled around him busily prepping him for surgery, one nurse painting his belly with brightly colored Betadine, and another starting to hang a bag of medication, but he held the nurse’s hand when she tried to attach it to his hep lock. “No,” he insisted, through teeth gritted with pain. He couldn’t form any further words or explanation, other than one. “Kurt.”


	24. Trepidations

Burt strolled down the hallway in the obstetrical ward, loaded down with magazines and books he’d collected for Blaine. He knew how tough it was on a bouncy, energetic kid like Blaine in the hospital. Poor guy had been lying down in hospital beds more often than not over the last year, between that rock-salt slushy and then this weird pregnancy thing. Least he could do was pass on some reading material to help pass the time. He figured they’d be scheduling the boys’ c-sections anytime now, so he planned on taking the next couple weeks to spend time with them and with his new grandbabies.

Blaine’s room was empty, so he tossed the magazines on the bedside table and sat down in a nearby chair to wait for him to come back from whatever test he was having today. He shook his head. Kid was cooped up and poked and prodded like a damn lab rat. Well, it’ll be worth it to have those miracle little girls to spoil.

He heard a commotion outside, a flurry of shouts and running feet, and supposed somebody was in labor. He picked up a magazine and started flipping through it, but out of the corner of his eye, saw Dr. Shelley’s stout form flash by the doorway, followed by Dr. Ryan. Those were Blaine and Kurt’s doctors. He dropped the magazine again, and went to the doorway, just in time to see Blaine being wheeled by on a gurney toward the Operating Room. “Hey!” he called out, alarmed. “Hey, where’re you takin’ him? That’s my son-in-law!”

A hand on his arm startled him, and he turned to see Anna Anderson standing behind him, her face taut and pale. “Burt, he’s gone into labor - -“

“What? It’s time?” He looked down the hallway and saw Blaine being wheeled into the operating suite. “Where’s Kurt?”

Anna swiped her hand across her eyes, and choked out, “That’s the problem, Burt! He’s not picking up his phone! Blaine won’t let them start until we find out where he is and … and I think Kurt must be in trouble.”

Burt bit his lip, took a deep breath, and then tried to smile reassuringly. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. He probably forgot his phone and went out for cheesecake. Kurt would leave his head off if it wasn’t attached. He’ll check in any minute, I - -“

“Burt. The legends of the pregnant couples from Ariadne’s temple - -“

“Ah, Anna - -“

She cut him off. “ _Listen_ , Burt! This is important! In all the legends, both partners got pregnant at the same time. And -- _went into labor at the same time_! If Blaine’s in labor, then I’m sure Kurt is too!”

He felt the blood drain from his face, but forced himself to speak calmly. “That doesn’t mean Kurt’s in labor, or in trouble if he is. He’ll get to a phone.”

“Burt! All the men who went into labor – straight or gay – _died_ , remember? Kurt needs to get here as soon as possible and have a c-section if he’s in labor!”

Burt had heard that a drowning man sees his own life flash before his eyes in the moment before death. At Anna’s words, the life that flashed before him wasn’t his own, but Kurt’s. Kurt as a big-eyed, somber, vaguely superior-looking newborn. As a sweet, eccentric little boy with a love of Power Rangers and princesses alike, dressing up in his mom’s heels and scarves while she was alive, and hiding in her wardrobe, her clothes draped over him, to try to retain her memory through her scent after death. So many memories, most wonderful, some painful, but not enough of them. Not enough to say goodbye to his son, to let him go to his mom in the hereafter.

Anna grabbed his arms and shook him. “Think, Burt! Where could he be?”

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The latest wave of pain gradually subsided, and he knew he would have only a minute or two before it rose up again. Though he was trembling and shaky, Kurt forced himself to a sitting position yet again, as he had a half-dozen times already between contractions. He was afraid to stand up, for fear he’d lose his balance when the next contraction hit, and fall the rest of the way down. He or the baby could get hurt in the fall. No, he had to take it slow, inch his way to the bottom of the stairs. He could see it was only one more flight of stairs, once he rounded this next corner. He could see the exit door through the banister. Once he got into the lobby, maybe he could get his phone to work, call an ambulance … _God, please let there be enough time … Penny, please hang in there … please be all right, baby girl …_

Another crushing, twisting contraction took over, but he stayed calm this time, even as the pain blotted out his vision and tore at his insides. He gripped the banister railing, trying to keep breathing, trying to think of his happy place like Blaine’s silly Lamaze videos had recommended. Blaine had said Kurt was going to be his happy place if he went into labor. Kurt had made fun of him mercilessly, but right now Blaine’s face rose up in his mind and he focused on it. _My happy place,_ he thought, focusing on the way Blaine’s eyes always lit up when he saw Kurt come in the hospital room every day.

When the contraction passed, he drew a deep, shaky breath. There had been hardly a break between contractions that time. He had to hurry, but it was so hard. He slid down a step on the stairway, then another.   Before he could manage a third, he was gripped yet again with another contraction.

His contractions were now only seconds apart, not minutes, and they were getting stronger. What if he couldn’t get to the door? What if he got there, and there still wasn’t any reception, and he had to somehow drag himself to the front door of the school? He - -

The pain spiked to a new level of agony, and he curled on his side on the step to try to withstand it.  

_I don’t have a key to let myself out. Adam unlocked the door to get us in here. What if it locked shut behind him?_

Before he could complete his last thought, the world went blissfully dark and silent around him.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Burt and Anna hovered one on each side of Blaine’s stretcher, cellphones in hand, waiting for some word from Kurt. Blaine’s pain had been dulled by the anesthesiologist, but he was tense with worry. They barely noticed the steady stream of traffic rushing around them frantically.

This was a teaching hospital, with an old-fashioned operating room gallery available to watch the historic surgery through panes of glass. The chief and assistant chief of every remotely related department in the hospital – obstetrics, perinatology, neonatology, pediatrics, surgery – and the chief of the medical staff, along with experts in all those fields from other top hospitals, and special medical correspondents from the New York Times and the Associated Press, arrived steadily and filed into the gallery to take seats and observe this moment, all under strict written agreement not to reveal Blaine’s real name or identity. There was a gowned and masked camera crew in the operating room itself. The OR team was scrubbed and prepped and at the ready. There was only one thing missing. The patient, who had stubbornly refused to sign a consent form.

"Blaine,” Anna whispered into his ear, looking up at the impatient nurse holding a clipboard. “Honey, sign the paper and let them take you in.”

“No. Not until I hear from Kurt.”

“We told you, honey. He’s on his way, he said to go in,” Anna lied, meeting his eyes steadily.

Blaine glanced over at a pale, drawn Burt. “No he didn’t. He’d have asked to talk to me, not pass a message through you. You’re lying. He’s missing, and I need to know he’s all right before I can go in!”

Dr. Shelley came out from the operating suite and approached the bed. “Blaine, we’re almost ready. You need to sign the consent form so we can get started.”

“Is my baby in danger?” Blaine asked directly. He looked over at the portable ultrasound and electronic fetal monitor beside him. After months in the hospital, he had a pretty good idea of what numbers to expect. “It doesn’t look like it. The heart rate’s fine - - “

The doctor sighed, and shrugged helplessly at Anna. “The baby’s in good condition, Blaine, but we need to get started soon. If we start to see any signs of distress, or if Kurt isn’t here in another fifteen minutes, I wouldn’t recommend waiting any longer, okay?”

Blaine nodded, blinking back tears. _Please call, Kurt, please .._

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Rachel fished in her pocketbook for the key-pass to the front door at NYADA and swiped it. “Thank goodness I’m president of twelve freshman organizations and have a key,” she said importantly. “Though I’m sure he’s not here. Probably he’s out taking a walk or getting some lunch.”

“Lunch, probably. Little bro can really put it away these days.” Finn followed her inside the hallway. “Where’d Adam say they were supposed to practice?”

“Upstairs, second floor. Let’s take the elevator up.”

They waited, Finn tapping the wall and pressing the elevator button repeatedly. After a moment, Finn blew out a breath and turned to Rachel. “Look, I’m … just having a weird feeling about this. You check the elevator when it gets here, but I’m heading up.”

“It’ll be here in a second, it’s just a little slow sometimes,” Rachel protested, but Finn planted a kiss on the top of her head and sprinted for the stairwell. When he yanked the door open and looked up, he shouted, “Rachel!” and shot through it, his wife hot on his heels.  

He bounded up the stairs three at a time and reached his little brother, passed out on the stairs. Terrified, he gently shook his shoulder. “Kurt … Kurt, little bro, it’s Finn, can you open your eyes?”

Rachel knelt beside him, pulling out her cellphone. “Damn it, there’s no reception in here,” she said. “I’m going down to the lobby to call an ambulance.”

“No time,” Finn said abruptly. “The hospital’s only three blocks from here. I’m carrying him.” He put an arm under Kurt’s knees and another under his back, and carefully lifted him.

The movement seemed to rouse Kurt, who groaned in pain.

“It’s okay Kurt. I got you,” Finn soothed him. Rachel bit her lip, stroking Finn’s shoulder with one hand and Kurt’s tumbled, sweat-dampened hair with the other. Finn nodded toward the door and Rachel hurried toward it.  “Just try to stay still so I can carry you, okay?”

Kurt buried his face on Finn’s shoulder. “Hurts so bad,” he whimpered.

“I’ll try to be gentle. Just relax.” Finn went down the final flight of stairs. Rachel had scurried ahead and opened the door for him.   She held it open as they passed through, Finn carefully avoiding the door jamb. Then she ran ahead to the front door, where she scrambled with the key to open it.

His lips white and tense, Kurt murmured, “Blaine … call Blaine and tell him … the baby’s coming … it’s coming …”

“I’m calling the hospital to tell them to get ready, Kurt. It’s okay, just try to stay calm,” Rachel shrieked, dialing her cellphone while running into the crowded, clamoring sidewalk. “ _Get out of the way! Pregnant man coming through!”_


	25. Introductions

“It’s snowing,” Kurt whispered, blinking at the flecks of whiteness swirling overhead and all around. Like being inside a just-shaken snow globe. A thin layer of fresh snow crunched under Finn’s feet. And the big jagged snowflakes melted on Kurt's flushed face, mingling with and cooling the film of sweat clinging to him. He tightened his grasp around Finn’s neck, and rested his head on his broad shoulder. He was safe now. Finn would take care of him. He always had. Finn would take him to Blaine. 

 

The sidewalk was bordered by waist-high snowbanks, and the pedestrians were crowded together between them, picking their way through the narrowed path and avoiding treacherous patches of snow and ice. 

 

"Be careful, Finn! It’s slippery!” Rachel barrelled ahead of them, shouting at people to get out of the way and guiding them forward like a crazed, miniskirted traffic cop. Kurt was so dazed with pain and nerves that he barely registered the stares and murmurs from the crowd as Finn shouldered through, but he felt each and every step Finn took in every bruised muscle in his tortured body.

 

Finn slipped as he stepped up on an icy curb, catching himself in time, but Kurt cried out in agony at the accidental jolt to his ribs.

 

“I’m sorry, bro - -” 

 

“Please, it’s ok, just please - - hurry - -” Kurt panted. 

 

“I see the hospital up ahead. You’ll be taken care of soon,” Finn assured him.

 

Everything sped up once they got inside the hospital. Finn put him down on some kind of bed or gurney, and then he was being pushed at full speed along the hall. He curled up on his side, holding on to the rails on the hospital bed, as the ceiling lights flashed past overhead. He shut his eyes to try to stop the world’s spinning. 

 

This was it. It was real, this pain was too intense to be a dream. Part of him still hadn’t quite believed this would really happen, but the moment had arrived after all. His baby was coming, ready or not. 

 

The bed rolled to a stop, and a stranger's hands unbuttoned his shirt, stripping it from him before other hands applied blue gel and a doppler wand. He cried with relief at the whooshing sound. Penny. Penny's heart. 

 

"Kurt!"

 

He opened his eyes and then smiled despite the pain and through his tears. It was Blaine. He was here, lying on the stretcher beside his in the hallway. 

 

They reached through the rails at the same time and clasped hands off the edges of their beds.

 

"Thank God Finn and Rachel found you! I was scared to death."

 

"I'm in labor," Kurt gasped. "Are -- are you--"

 

"Me too. I'm about to go in for my c-section."

 

Kurt started to answer him, but then another contraction crashed over him, the world going blurry around him until the pain passed. When it did, Blaine was tenderly stroking his face. Someone had pushed their stretchers together, and Blaine somehow leaned over the rail of his bed, looking down at him with fear and worry etched across his sweet face. 

 

“That was a bad one, wasn’t it?” Blaine said, pityingly. “They gave me something for mine, but it was really bad before. I’m so sorry you had to go through it with no help, all alone - - you must have been so scared.”

 

“I was … but it’s okay now that I’m with you.” He pressed Blaine’s hand to his lips and gazed into his eyes, focusing on him through the next contraction. It was easier to bear now. A little, anyway ... and then Dr. Shelley was there.

 

“Okay boys … Blaine is stable, and his pain is controlled. We’re going to take you in first, Kurt.”

 

“Wait, what? I - I’m not ready. I haven’t had any pain medication - - Blaine’s ready - -”

 

“We’ll give you general anesthesia when we get you inside. There’s some internal bleeding, some cracked ribs … I don’t want to wait. We’re doing a crash section on you.”

 

“Bleeding? But the baby - is my baby all right? Doctor!” Kurt cried. Blaine squeezed his hand again, and kissed his damp forehead.

 

“Kurt. Let the doctors take care of you, honey. I’ll see you in a little bit. It’ll be all right, I promise.”

 

Kurt nodded, and stretched up to return the kiss. “I love you so much.”

 

“I love you too. I can’t wait to see you and meet our babies. Really soon, okay? Don’t be scared.”

 

A nurse shoved a clipboard in his face and he scrawled his name at the bottom, and then was wheeled away from his husband. He managed a tiny wave goodbye as the doors swung shut, before remembering. 

 

He’d promised never to say goodbye. 

 

He hoped Blaine understood … it was going to be ‘see you later.’ Not goodbye. Never goodbye.

 

Kurt felt a calm settle over him as they positioned the bed in the operating room. It was different from what he expected. Smaller, and so brightly lit, he noticed as the staff transferred him to another table, and began to wash his stretched belly with a red soapy liquid, and put up white cotton drapes around him. There were a lot of people swarming like worker ants around their swollen, pregnant queen ant. Someone started an IV and positioned his arms out to his sides, strapping them down ... As if he was being nailed to a cross. 

 

“Hey, kiddo.” Kurt turned toward the familiar voice. He focused his eyes with some difficulty, and realized thegowned and masked "doctor” near his bed had his father’s eyes and voice.

 

“Dad … you’re here …”

 

“I know Blaine wishes he could be here for this, but he’s on deck next, so your old man’ll have to pinch hit for him. You put me down as bein’ allowed in during the surgery. But if you changed your mind and don’t want me in here keepin’ an eye on stuff, that’s fine - just say the word and I’ll make myself scarce.”

 

"Oh no, Dad! No, I want you here … I want someone who loves me here, to see my baby born. Please stay.”

 

“Kurt, before this starts … I wanna say how proud I am of you. You’re being a lot braver than I’d be in your place.”

 

“Thanks, Dad. Love you.”

 

“Love you too, Kiddo.”

 

The anesthesiologist loomed into view from behind and above his head. “I’m going to put a mask on your face now, Kurt. Then I want you to count backwards from 100 and breathe deeply, okay?”

 

Kurt’s voice was a hoarse whisper as he said yes, and then the mask was placed. 

 

100\. 99. 98. 97. 96. 95. 94 … and blackness swept over him.

 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

 

His throat felt so sore, so dry. He didn’t know where he was or why it was so hard to open his eyes. So hard, but he … he could hear a voice. It sounded so far away, but … it was Blaine. Blaine was singing. He wanted to wake up and really listen to that singing … he wanted to see Blaine. He managed to get his eyes to half-mast.

 

It was dim in the room … shadowy. There was Blaine’s voice again. It sounded like Blaine’s hugs felt. So soft and warm, strong and soothing. He loved that. And that well-loved voice went so well with his own flute-like one, Blaine’s smooth, mellow tone beneath his… they went so well together. He knew the melody, but he couldn’t figure out the words or turn his head just yet. He just drifted peacefully on that lullaby for a long time. Then ... it drifted into Blaine talking, his words a lullaby of their own.

 

“That’s my girl. You’re doing a great job, little one. I love you.”

 

Sleep was trying to take him away again, pulling him under like a riptide at the ocean, but he swam against it. His Blaine was here … their babies … he had to see. He managed to roll his face toward them, and his heart stopped.

 

Blaine was in a hospital bed. That was right, this was the hospital, and ... he was in a hospital bed too, just a few feet away. His heart leapt when he saw the babies’ two bassinets between them. There was a baby in one of them, swaddled tightly and with her tiny face turned away in sleep. But the other … the other was empty. 

 

Kurt panicked for a moment. Then, he realized ... Blaine was holding a tiny baby in his arms, leaning over and feeding her from a bottle. The lucky girl was gazing up at her daddy, and they had eyes only for each other. He tried to call out to Blaine, but he was too weak, too tired, his mouth and throat too sore. He just watched as Blaine set the small, pink bottle on the bedside table with one hand and raised the baby to his shoulder, rubbing her back. A healthy burp came from the little body, and Blaine laughed and settled her in the crook of his arm.

 

“That was a good one. You are such a good girl, Penny.” Blaine turned and saw Kurt looking, and burst into a wide smile.

 

“Kurt! How are you feeling? You’ve been asleep for hours!"

 

Kurt smiled feebly. “Babies … they’re okay? And you?” he whispered.

 

“They’re perfect, and I’m doing just fine.”

 

“Can I see? Please?”

 

“Of course! You can raise the head of your bed, on that TV remote thing. I’ll bring the girls over to see you. Don’t try to get up before the nurses come. You cracked your ribs when you fell and need to stay still. Let me get the call button - -”

“No. Don’t call them yet.” Kurt fumbled for the remote, pushing the button and slowly rising up with the bed to a sitting position. The horrible pain was gone now, replaced with a dull ache. He pressed down on his now-flatter, softer belly and winced.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Shouldn't I call the nurse?” Blaine asked anxiously. He had laid the baby in the same clear plastic-sided bassinet as her sister and was slowly inching off the edge of his bed.

“It just hurts when I press down on it,” Kurt said ruefully. “You know the old gag. Doctor, it hurts when I lift my arm?” 

“Then don’t lift your arm, right?” Blaine smiled. “Take my advice and go slow with everything for now. I’m allowed out of bed but you should wait until they check you out. In fact, I really should call - -“

“No! I said I want to see our babies first!” 

Blaine was up on his feet now, slightly hunched over but rolling the baby’s bassinet over alongside Kurt’s bed. “Okay, geeze. So bossy.” He picked up one of the babies and turned with her. Kurt reached out and Blaine laid a warm little bundle in his arms. “Meet Penny.”

Kurt looked down into a serious little face, wide awake and unblinking. With big, round blue eyes, and what he was sure were the most perfect features any baby ever had. His trembling fingers tugged at the pink crocheted cap on her head, and revealed a shock of straight, nearly black hair. “She’s perfect,” he breathed. 

 

Blaine laid a second baby in the crook of Kurt’s other arm. “And here’s Ari. Almost identical, just a couple ounces heavier, but the same length … same hair, same everything.”

 

“I wish they were a little less alike, to be honest. How will we tell them apart? What if you mixed them up already?” Kurt fretted, pressing a kiss to Ari’s head and then Penny’s.

 

“They have hospital ID bracelets on, silly. And I took extra precautions. Don’t you see Penny is wearing pink accessories?”

 

“I did notice that, actually. I have to say, that’s a lot more gender conforming than I expected from you. And after I went out of my way to decorate their room in our dorm suite in tasteful gender-neutral primary colors,” Kurt tsk’ed, giving Blaine a sly, sleepy grin. 

 

“Yes, but it’s not pink because it’s a girl color. It’s because of her name. You know. P for pink and P for Penny.”

 

Kurt looked at the crocheted booties and hat, and a tiny crocheted ID bracelet around Penny’s ankle. “Okay … but … why is Ari in green, then?”

 

“Apple green, Kurt! I’m surprised at you! A is for Apple and for Ari!”

 

“So cute … but where’d all these crocheted things come from? They look handmade. Nobody we know can crochet, can they? Did your mom make them?”

 

Blaine looked sheepish. “I made them. I taught myself to crochet while I was on bed rest and made a bunch of stuff for them.” He opened a drawer on the night table and revealed dozens of small hats, booties, ankle and wrist ID bracelets, all in pink and apple green. “I didn’t say anything because I wanted it to be a surprise. And this.” He pulled out two bottles of nail polish, one pink and one apple green. “I painted their toenails already.”

 

Kurt laughed, slipping off a green bootie and counting Ari’s wee toes. Sure enough, they had a tiny dot of green nail polish on each minute nail. He kissed Blaine on the cheek, chuckling. “You’re insane and that is repulsive looking. But it'll help tell them apart until we figure out how to do it without the cheat. Great idea, Papa. They look adorable.” 

 

“Thank you, Daddy. I guess Papa has some good ideas.” Blaine yawned widely.

 

“You look tired, honey. Why don’t you shut your eyes for a while? I’ve got the girls.”

 

Blaine squinted at Kurt. “Really?” 

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing. You just … well, it’s a good thing, actually. You just don’t seem as overwhelmed by fatherhood as I was expecting. I was pretty freaked out for the first two hours looking at the two of them, and I accepted it all pretty much the first day we found out about them. You were the one who had a hard time believing in all this at first, now … I’m the one who’s completely blown away … and you’re completely chill?”

 

The babies’ eyes were at half-mast after their feeding, a little sliver of blue showing between long-lashed lids, and they were so peaceful in Kurt’s arms. They fit there perfectly. Like they were made for just that, to sleep cozily in his embrace. Kurt shrugged. “I can’t explain it … but it feels like I’ve known them both forever somehow. It feels right, not weird at all. I can’t believe I was ever afraid of being their daddy.” He nuzzled Ari’s velvety cheek and smiled as she turned toward his touch. “We’re best friends already, aren’t we, little ones?” 

 

The fathers chuckled together at the little mew Ari let out as if in response.

 

“I’m … just so happy. So in love with all three of you. I want to live in this moment forever,” Kurt admitted. Blaine’s eyes welled up, and he leaned in to kiss him tenderly. After a few soft kisses, Kurt turned his face away, chuckling. “Oh no you don’t. Don’t start something we can’t finish. Besides, you clearly need to sleep a little. You look exhausted. C'mon, lie down with us and cuddle.” 

 

Blaine looked grateful, and squeezed into the bed beside him with a snuggle. It was only a minute before he dropped off. Kurt smiled down at the three loves of his life in his arms. His miracle family. 

 

He glanced out the window at the skyline and whispered, "thank you, Ariadne."


End file.
